Instant Karma
by Sorsha711
Summary: A series of deadly bombings reunites Munch with the woman that has haunted his sleep for years. In the midst of tragedy, can some much needed good karma open the way for true love delayed? JMOFC Crossover with L&O & L&O:CI PLEASE R
1. Chapter 1

Title: Instant Karma, Chapter 1

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC; involves the entire Law & Order universe  
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; some adult content  
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Dick Wolf. Munch isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh!  
Summary: A series of random bombings reunites Munch with the woman that has haunted his sleep for years. In the midst of tragedy, can some much needed good karma open the way for true love delayed? JM/OFC

"_Instant Karma's gonna get you  
Gonna knock you right on the head"  
Instant Karma, John Lennon_

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Instant Karma, Chapter 1

Rounding the corner in time to see the doors of an elevator beginning to close, Munch sprinted forward calling, "Hold the door."

To his surprise, a hand appears in the dwindling crack, causing the doors to spring open. With a sigh of relief, the tall man slipped inside the nearly full car. "Thanks. I'm running late as it is."

"Not a problem. Maybe it will bring me good karma."

Noting both the smile and the soft slur of a southern accent that colored her voice, Munch reached over to tap the button for the fourteenth floor. Mingled with those quick observations was the certain knowledge that he had heard her voice before… that their paths had crossed sometime in the not too distant past. The sudden clinching of his heart warned him it was likely he still carried a scar from that prior encounter.

Hesitating to turn to study her and place a face with the tantalizing voice, he let his eyes remain focused on the panel. "What floor do you need?'

"Sixteenth … Det. Munch."

Startled, the lanky policeman swiveled to face her and dropped his head a fraction so that he could peer at her over the top of his omnipresent dark glasses. "Do I…? Sydney Riley." The memory of the lovely blond-haired woman before him swept over him in a sudden rush. "I… it's been a while. What brings you to New York? Are you still living in Boston?"

A soft smile greeted his question, a smile that did not quite dispel the shadows that haunted her hazel eyes. "I've moved since the last time we spoke. I relocated to New York three years ago. I'm a fellow at Hudson's Institute for Public Policy Research. Are you visiting New York or are you here on assignment?"

"I live here now too… moved from Baltimore a little over six years ago." Noting the changes that had occurred to her features in the years since they had last met… the scar still visible under the fringe of her bangs, he added, "I guess that means it's been about seven years. Your friend's murder was one of the last major cases I cleared before I retired from the force."

"Seven years sounds right." Moving away from the door as it opened for several people to exit on the third floor, the shapely blond hesitated for a moment before asking, "You've retired from the Baltimore force?"

"Yeah… I did my twenty and decided I needed a change." A dry, faintly dark laugh slipped from his lips. "I guess I'm just too much a creature of habit. I'm back on the job with the NYPD."

"Baltimore's loss is New York's gain."

Still holding her gaze, he was pleased to note that her comment seemed sincere. Falling into his habit of a lifetime, he joked, "My captain might disagree. And then there's my partner…"

Shifting toward the back of the car as more people entered and exited the elevator as it made its slow crawl up the building's core, Munch reached out a steadying hand to catch her elbow as a young man, lost in the world of his iPod, caused her to stumble into the back wall. A wave of long-suppressed desire surged to life at the contact. He unconsciously took a step closer to her, all too aware of the unrequited feelings she had always inspired in him… feelings that past circumstances had kept him from pursuing.

For several long seconds, he stared into her startled eyes. It never entered his mind to doubt that she had felt the electric charge that had sparked to life at his touch; the flush on her cheeks and the catch to her breathing were all the confirmation he needed that she had. The bell that signaled the elevator's arrival at another floor finally broke the moment. Uncomfortable with the intensity of his reaction, Munch forced his gaze away from hers and glanced around them.

He turned his head in time to see the doors to the car slide shut behind the last of their fellow passengers. He knew the lower portion of the building was devoted to academic space… classrooms and the like for several of Hudson University's programs. Above the tenth floor, the building housed offices of one type or another. Since it was nearing 9 a.m. and the start of another block of classes, John was not surprised that the other passengers had all gotten off on the lower floors.

A quick review of the lighted numbers over the door confirmed his assumption that they would soon reach his floor. The need to know, to at last have some answers to the questions her departure from his life had left behind, motivated him to ask, "I know this is a little presumptuous given our last conversation, but would you…"

The sound of a muffled explosion rocked the elevator, cutting into his proposal that they meet sometime soon for a drink to talk and perhaps renew their acquaintance. The car was plunged into complete darkness as the floor seemed to fall away from under their feet. Instinct took over as he threw himself against her, crushing them both into the corner of the car. Wrapping his hands around the rails on either side of her waist, Munch braced himself against her anticipating the coming impact. "Hold on! The emergency brake…"

The stop was as sudden as the freefall. Despite their combined hold on the rails, the force of their momentum drove them hard to the floor. Still huddled together against the wall, the pair waited anxiously for what would happen next. The blare of the emergency alarms was muted by the sounds of their pounding hearts and labored breathing.

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	2. Chapter 2

Title: Instant Karma, Chapter 2

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC; Involves the entire Law & Order universe  
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; some adult content  
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Dick Wolf. Munch isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh!  
Summary: A series of random bombings reunites Munch with the woman that has haunted his sleep for years. In the midst of tragedy, can good karma open the way for true love delayed? JM/OFC

Instant Karma, Chapter 2

The lights from the emergency backup system blinked to life, bathing the elevator in an eerie red glow. An ominous creak above their heads hinted at the precarious strength of whatever had stopped their car from completing its plummet to the building's basement. Neither missed the sway that continued to rock the car beneath them, reinforcing their fear the elevator were hanging by a literal thread.

"Are you OK?"

Startled by the shaking hand that had come to rest on the side of his face, Munch dropped his eyes to stare into the panicked hazel ones that were focused on his face. Struggling to organize his thoughts, he slowly nodded. "Yeah… just a little banged up… nothings broken I think. You?"

"My right knee… I think it may be broken. It felt like it popped when we… stopped," Sydney whispered, the uncertainty of their situation giving her voice a wavering quality. Shock and fear appeared to be holding the majority of the pain of her injury at bay for the moment.

Realizing he had maintained his tight hold on her… that she was cuddled protectively against his chest, Munch eased back so that he could help her shift her weight off of the injured limb. An alarming groan echoed over the heads, causing him to freeze and reestablish his hold on his companion.

"I hate to say this because you must be in pain, but I don't think we can risk moving around until we know what we're up against," he murmured, his gaze fixed on the roof of the car as if he was attempting to peer thought the solid surface to the cables above.

A nod against his chest confirmed her agreement. "Was it a bomb you think or did the equipment plant blow?"

"Don't know. I heard the explosions, but…"

"'Explosions'? You heard more than one too?"

Unconsciously tightening his grip on her shivering body, Munch admitted, "I heard an explosion a second before another louder one. That seemed to be what cut our power. There may have been more, but… I wasn't paying attention to anything but trying to get a solid grip on those rails."

Looking back down at Sydney, he asked, "What did you hear?"

"I heard… I heard those too." Taking a ragged breath, she continued. "I think there were more after we started to fall, but… I can't be sure."

"The knee's bad isn't it? I can hear the pain in your voice."

"Yeah, the shock is wearing off a little and… it must be broken," she breathed, her growing pain darkening her eyes to a deep brown, muting the golden flecks that had always fascinated him. In the eighteen months she had been part of his life, he had come to realize they revealed her true mood even when her face was completely composed. Their current dulled luster spoke volumes to one that knew to look.

"OK, we need to get you off that knee, moving around as little as possible in the process." Walking through the moves in his head, he instructed, "Wrap your arms around my neck so I can support you while we rotate you off your knees onto your hip. Once you are sitting back against the wall, we will slowly ease you to the floor so I can straighten out your leg."

Burying her face against his shoulder, she shook her head. "I'll be ok for a little longer. We can't risk moving until we know if… whatever is holding us up will continue to hold if we do."

"You're hurting, Sydney. Let me move you so we can take some of the pressure off your knee," he insisted, knowing she was right, but bothered by the evidence she was hurting. He had seen her hurt before and he had no tolerance for the idea of seeing her suffer again.

"Gee thanks for the update, Detective! I hadn't noticed," she murmured, the hint of a smile in her tone completely at odds with the pinched lines of her face. "Is the emergency phone working?"

"I doubt it… the panel looks to be dead." Reaching into his jacket pocket, Munch pulled out his cell phone. "There are days I want to pitch this off the Brooklyn Bridge, but I'm glad I have it now."

Dialing 911, he lifted the phone to his ear and settled his companion back against his chest. "My name is John, by the way… not Detective. I seem to remember you willingly called me that in times past." A faint, strained smile was his reward.

Hearing his call answered, he began, "Yes, this is Det. John Munch, SVU. I'm trapped with Ms. Sydney Riley in an elevator in the Morse-Jefferson Building on…"

"Yeah, the Morse-Jefferson Building at Hudson University. I take it you've had calls already?"

"I'll tell you what I can. An explosion, at least two, maybe more, knocked off our power and we went into a freefall. The emergency brake kicked in after we fell… I have no idea how far we dropped."

"Yeah, we're still up."

Pausing to listen to the dispatcher, he replied, "Other than some bumps and bruises, I'm fine, but my companion is injured. Again, her name is Sydney Riley. It is still Riley isn't it, Syd? Yeah, Riley," he repeated seeing her nod.

Another pause. "No, nothing life-threatening. She came down hard on her… It's your right knee?" Feeling her nod again, he continued, "Her right knee. She thinks it may be broken and she is in a good bit of pain."

"No, we are hesitant to move around too much, so she's still on it. Frankly, we're both worried our situation is pretty precarious. Moving around isn't an option at this point. The cables are groaning a lot more than we would like, so we'd appreciate some help getting us out before this car decides to finish what it started."

"Yeah, now many?"

"All of them?! Damn! Give my number to whoever is responding from the 2-7. I'll share what little I know, but some immediate help would be appreciated."

"Yeah, we'll do our best. Thanks."

Ending the call, John dialed Don Cragen's number. "I'm calling my Captain to let him know what's up. Do you need me to call anyone for you?"

A muffled, "Just my office for now, assuming they haven't all been evacuated. No need to upset my family. My parents are up in years, so I'd prefer to wait. My secretary can contact them for me."

"No boyfriend… fiancé? You were engaged…"

"No."

"No… so… Hi Don. Munch."

"The news is out that fast? How…?"

"Staggered? Must have caused major gird-lock responding at rush-hour."

"Yeah, I'm fine for now, but my companion is hurt."

"Hell no! We're in one of the elevators dangling an unknown distance off the ground! The lights went out and we started to drop. The emergency brakes finally kicked in, but I have no idea how far we fell. Not my idea of being safe."

"Yeah, I called it in, but haven't heard anyone nosing around us yet. All we're hearing is the groans and creaks of the cables. Not comforting."

"I figured as much. All precincts going on alert? You will explain why I'm not reporting, right?"

"You heard who at the 2-7… or is the Major Case Squad taking control?"

"Green's a good man, but Fontana is an ass. Don't know Logan. Was he one of yours?"

"It sounded like more than one explosion. Sydney… my companion and I both heard two. She is pretty sure there were others after we started to fall. I was too busy trying to wrap us around the railing to be able to say with confidence beyond the second one. That's the one that seemed to trigger our fall."

"I'm going to sport some impressive bruises and a few sprains, but Syd's the one that's hurt. We think her knee is broken. I'd like to be able to help her stretch out and ease the pressure on it, but neither one of us wants to risk moving too much until we know how bad the situation with our elevator's cables is. She still kneeling on it and hurting a lot."

Feeling her eyes on his face, Munch hesitated before answering Cragen's last question. "I don't think there's much holding us up here. We'd appreciate your lighting a fire under the folks that are supposed to be getting us out."

"Thanks. Any reports of losses yet?"

"Damn! Yeah, keep me posted. We're not going anywhere without some help."

Plastering a smile on his face as he broke the connection, he asked, "What's your office number? I'll call…"

A trembling hand reached up to rest on his shoulder. "What did your Captain tell you, John? I need to know."

Sighing, he studied her expression. Their prior acquaintance had given him some insight into her personality. He had been impressed by her strength and tenacity then. He hoped it had not been damaged by later experiences and was still sufficient to see them though this ordeal.

"Give me your secretary's number. After we call her, I'll tell you what I know."

-----

"So, is John OK?"

Cragen nodded his head as he began to dial Mike Logon's number. "Mike… Don. Yeah, I know you're swamped. Do me a favor. One of my men is trapped in an elevator at the Morse-Jefferson at Hudson."

"Names John Munch."

"Yeah, the one that came up from Baltimore. He said he's banged up… nothing serious, but his companion is injured… broken bones at least. Munch says their perch seems a little precarious. Can you light a fire on getting them out?"

"Thanks, Mikey. Let me know if I can do anything to help. I'm heading over there now," he concluded, breaking the connection.

"Is John OK?"

Looking up to meet the worried eyes of his detective, he replied, "Yeah Liv. He said he wasn't hurt seriously, but he still trapped in one of the cars. He sounded worried about the how long it will stay up. You want to ride…"

Odafin Tutuola appeared in the doorway of Cragen's office, Elliot Stabler on his heels. "Munch…"

"Is ok for now. I just spoke to him and he's trapped in one of the elevators," Cragen interjected. "I'm heading down there now. Elliot you have the office watch. Fin, you're with Liv and me."

As the three hurried toward the elevator, Stabler called after them. "Keep me posted."

Seeing the doors close behind them, he muttered to the suddenly empty office, "Damn I hate getting left behind!"

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	3. Chapter 3

Title: Instant Karma, Chapter 3

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC; Involves the entire Law & Order universe  
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; some adult content  
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Dick Wolf. Munch isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh!  
Summary: A series of random bombings reunites Munch with the woman that has haunted his sleep for years. In the midst of tragedy, can good karma open the way for true love delayed? JM/OFC

Instant Karma, Chapter 3

"It looks like this was a deliberate attack, Sydney. Cragen says the early reports indicate there were multiple explosions in all of the elevator shafts in this building and in three others Manhattan mid-rises, staggered to go off at fifteen minutes intervals. Our car appears to be the only one still up. The rest are on the ground. The city is on full-alert and the NYPD is calling in all personnel for extended duty," Munch quietly reported, his own disquiet clear.

Seeing the last of the color drain from her face, he finished, "It has all the hallmarks of an organized attack, but no one has taken credit yet. There have been fatalities, but Cragen didn't know how many. He's calling the lead detective from the Major Case Squad and making sure he knows we're up here, so help is on the way.

Flipping his ringing cell phone open to hear the recorded message to all NYPD personnel to report for extended duty, he let it play to assure himself he had all the latest information. Glancing back down at the woman in his arms, he murmured, "Prerecorded message calling us in."

When it was finished, he closed the connection and slipped the phone back into his pocket. "Nothing new. Standard drill. Talk to me… tell me what you're thinking."

In a bare whisper, she asked, "Terrorists?"

"Too soon to know, but for now, that's the working assumption." Sighing, he forced a smile to his face. "Your karma seems to be flowing in our favor for now. If you hadn't held the door for me, I might have been in one of the other cars and you would be up here alone. Given our choices, I'd say we were doing ok. Besides, this gives me a chance to find out what you've been up to since we last met. I've thought a lot about you over the last seven years… wondered how you were and what you were doing."

"I've wondered about you too," she murmured, ducking her head back to rest against his chest. "Is your Captain going to call your wife and tell her you're ok?"

A dark eyebrow canted upward in response to her question. "My wife? I doubt he'll take the time to call my ex's with the good news of my continued existence. Why did you think I was married?"

Confusion clouded her eyes as she glanced briefly up at him. "I… I heard you got married."

Intrigued by her almost shy response, he tilted his head trying to catch her eye. A part of him was amazed that the topic of his marital status had come up at all, especially given their current situation, but it could provide a much needed diversion for both of them. "Where would you have heard something like that, Sydney?"

"I… met a woman that said she was your fiancée the last time I was in Baltimore. She said you were getting married later in the year. And one of the detectives from your old unit came to Boston to talk to me about… brought some mug shots for me to review because they thought there might be a Baltimore connection to what happened to me." Refusing to look up, she concluded, "He told me you had just gotten married."

Surprised, Munch asked, "Why didn't I know about this? Who came?"

"Detective Lewis."

"Lewis? I wonder why..." Frowning, Munch flipped open his ringing phone. "Munch."

"Hey Green. Talk to me. Tell me you are about to knock on the door and take us away from all this."

A pause. "We were somewhere between the twelfth and thirteenth floors when we heard at least two explosions. The lights went out and we went into a freefall. I have no idea how far we dropped before the emergency brake caught us. Where are we, by the way… how far did we fall?"

"Damn! That far? Good karma indeed!" he muttered, sending a reassuring smile to the woman listening to his end of the conversation. "Nothing Ed… inside joke."

Another pause. "How long? Sydney needs a doctor now."

Anger entered his voice for the first time as he demanded, "Cut the bullshit, Detective. Straight up… how bad is it?"

Sydney stiffened as she felt the tension radiating from his body increase. "I see. When…?"

Silence followed whatever answer he received. "What do we need to do?"

"Telling us to sit tight and wait isn't very comforting, my friend. And that's not as easy as it sounds. Sydney needs to be moved. We came down hard when we stopped and she's still kneeling on a broken knee."

"I don't know if she's bleeding. The way this car is creaking, neither of us can risk moving enough to get her shifting so I can check. She could go into shock from pain if we don't get her out soon."

"I understand… our decision to make. Thanks! Will someone keep us posted on the rescue team's progress?"

"Yeah, right. Thanks. Good luck on finding the bastards that did this."

Flipping the phone closed, Munch began, "So, Meldrick…"

"Don't. What did the detective tell you that had you tensing up?" Sydney demanded, pain giving her normally soft voice bite.

Sighing, he reluctantly met her searching gaze. "The explosion apparently snapped the primary and one of the secondary cables for our car. We're being held up by the only one left and it's damaged. That's why we fell so far… it took the emergency break longer to respond given the extent of the damage."

"So… ?"

Fighting back his own worry, Munch drew her a little closer. "Green says the FDNY is rigging a cable and plans to send someone down to clamp it to the top of our car. That should stabilize us enough for them to get the elevator hatch open and us out, but… it may take a little time for them to rig the cable given the extent of the damage topside."

Shivering as she fought to contain her growing panic, she whispered, "Be honest… do they have the time to get to us before the cable snaps?"

Dropping his head to rest against the top of hers, he admitted, "They don't know. I hate this, but we can't risk moving too much. That could cause the car to shift, making the cable fray faster. Maybe we can slowly reposition you enough for me to ease you further onto me. I can help support you and take some of the pressure off of your knee."

Forcing a deep breath into her lungs, she asked, "Can we risk that, John? The pain I can live with, the sudden fall… not so much. _Got zol ophiten_!"_(Yiddish for God_ _forbid_!)

Caught off guard by her choice of words, he grinned, "'Got zol ophiten!'? Where did a beautiful _shikseh_ like you learn Yiddish?" (_gentile woman or girl_)

"From my neighbor, Mrs. Rosenberg… a dear little lady that has decided I need mothering. That's one of her favorite saying. I've picked up a few phrases from her. She's alone, so I try to look in on her most nights. She's a love," she whispered, relieved to have something else to discuss.

"We all need a little mothering some time, I guess," he murmured, still amused.

"How far did we fall?"

Still resting his chin against her hair, he sighed, "We're between the sixth and seventh floors. We'll be ok, Syd."

"That means we dropped over six stories! I'm scared, John. How did we survive that? Are you sure you're ok? We hit pretty hard. Are you hiding something from me so you won't worry me? And what happens if they can't attach the new cable or if…"

"Syd… take a deep breath and try to calm down. We can't afford to panic," Munch soothed. "I have no idea why we survived, but I'll hazard a guess it has to do with the fact we didn't impact the ground and the cable had a little bounce in it that cushioned the stop more than we know. I'm sore all over… my left ankle is throbbing, but nothing worse than that. I promise. OK?"

"Do you think your ankle is broken?" New worry colored her voice.

"Maybe, but I can't say for sure. In any case, it's hardly life-threatening, so I'll be ok." Wanting to offer some reassuring news, he added, "Green says the responders are also looking to see if they can slide some braces under us as a temporary fix to buy some time while they rig the cable. He seemed to think that was possible, but… its touch and go for now, Syd."

Tightening her grip on his waist, she nodded. "I wish my bag wasn't trapped behind me. I have some _Advil_ and a bottle of water in it. That would help both of us, but… it's not worth the risk of trying to get to it."

"Yeah, I can't reach it without moving you. Like I offered earlier… put your arms over my shoulders and we will slowly ease you further against me. We should be safe doing that if we take it slow and easy," he urged.

"But that will add to the pressure on your ankle."

"No it won't. I basically down on my right hip and my left foot is not under me. I'll be fine. Let me help you and we will both feel better." Feeling her arms settle into place around his neck, he gently eased her off of her injured knee, taking as much of her weight onto himself as he could without causing the car to rock. "Is that any better?"

"Yes… thanks." The shuddering breaths she was taking seemed to contradict her words. "It will… be better once… damn!"

Knowing the shifting of her body had jangled the broken bones and caused her pain to escalate, Munch gently rubbed her back in silent comfort and support. Hearing her labored breathing start to ease, he decided to restart their earlier conversation knowing they both needed the diversion. "So, you were saying you met my fiancée. Where did you run into Billie Lou?"

A sudden grin lit her face, driving away some of the grey tones that had marred its beauty but seconds before. "Billie Lou? You're kidding me? That's her name?"

Chuckling, he nodded. "Billie Lou Hatfield… I couldn't make up something that good. That, along with many others things, should have been sufficient to clue me into our basic incompatibility, but I'm a little slow sometimes. So how did you meet her?"

Intrigued by the blush that appeared to stain her pale cheeks a deep pink, he pressed, "Come on, Syd, spill… this must be good if it has you blushing like a schoolgirl."

"I am not blushing," was mumbled against his jacket front.

"Well, unless you're running a sudden fever… or you are overcome by the nearness of my manly physique, it looks like a blush to me." Dropping his head enough to whisper in her ear, he added, "If it's the latter, do please tell. I won't be offended, I promise."

Neither missed the shiver that coursed through her body as his warm breath caressed her ear. Eyebrows arching as she ducked her head… a move at odds with the spirited personality he remembered, Munch watched as the blush deepened. "Syd?"

In a low voice, she began a halting explanation. "The night after my testimony at Anderson's trial… I was pacing in my hotel room, unable to unwind. I ended up taking a cab to your stationhouse hoping you might be there. An officer in the squadroom told me you were off shift, but that I would find you across the street at your bar."

Tilting his head to try to improve his view of her face, he frowned. "I don't remember ever seeing you there. I promise I would have noticed a lady like you in that dive."

Seeing her hesitate to continue, he decided a little confession of his own might help. Thinking back, he mused, "I started several times to call you after you finished your testimony and see how you were doing, but… I got called to a scene to investigate a murder tied to another of my cases. You had left the courthouse by the time I got back… then I had to work my shift at the Waterfront. One of my partners… Meldrick as turns out, talked me out of calling to check on you. He said you were probably exhausted and needed to rest. I wish I had ignored him, but what he said made sense at the time. How did I miss seeing you come into the bar?"

Sighing, she admitted, "I lost my nerve and never came inside."

Puzzled, he asked, "Then how did you meet Billie Lou? She waited tables for us. And why would you have lost your nerve?"

"She must have seen me outside and recognized me from the pictures in the paper. I had been standing under a lamppost for a few minutes debating disturbing you when she came out to talk to me," she whispered. "She made some good points and I left. End of story."

"'end of story'? That's it? What 'points' could she have made that caused you to decide to leave without coming in to talk to me?" Gently cupping her chin so that he could tilt her head so their eyes could meet, he pressed, "What did she say?"

"John… just leave it. It's over and we have a few more pressing issues to occupy our attention right now," she replied, wrenching her chin out of his hold. Her terse tone betrayed her building irritation with his line of questioning.

Surprised by her stiff response, Munch found himself unwilling to let the matter drop. Some instinct demanded he get the answer to that question. She had pushed him away seven years earlier and too many sleepless nights in the years since had him insisting, "Since we can't do much about those 'pressing issues', I don't see any reason for us not to talk about this. What did Billie Lou say that made you leave without coming inside? Hell, you knew most of the people there and you had to know I'd be happy… thrilled to see you."

"Drop it! I didn't know any such thing then or now. Besides, we don't need to add an awkward silence to the mix of emotions surrounding us while we wait. It happened over seven years ago… its ancient history," she bit out.

"Billie Lou and I were on and off around that time. I'm sure we were not together during that stretch. I know without doubt she wasn't my fiancée then. If she told you she was, she was lying," he countered. "Please, I'd like to know. You froze up on me after that… damn it, you pushed me away and I never understood why. I thought we had at least become friends and it bothered me when you cut me off without an explanation."

A small, soft voice asked, "It bothered you?"

"Hell yes, sure it did," he confirmed, a cautious hope flaring to life in his heart. "I… we seemed to connect. I looked forward to seeing you when you came to town. I know it was supposed to be about Ally's case, but I looked forward to your visits for weeks… the anticipation of seeing you got me though some days. We must have drunk several gallons of coffee discussing the case… our lives. We'd start out all business, but it always turned to other topics and we'd talk for hours."

"Yeah, we did."

"If we're confessing, the days we left that coffee shop and wondered around town talking… spending time together were the best. I thought they meant something to you too," he whispered. "I lived for those Saturdays. I hated to see you drive away when it got late and you had to go back to Boston. I knew it would be weeks before you came back to town and my life seemed flat and empty after you left. It's bothered me ever since that you rejected all my overtures then… and later."

Stunned hazel eyes locked with his questioning brown gaze. "I did too… look forward to our days together. I'd never met anyone like you and I wanted to get to know you better. That was part of the reason I made those trips. I told myself it was to keep the pressure on, so Ally's case wouldn't get lost in the cold case files, but… I wanted to see you. I was confused, but I…"

"Confused?"

"I know I told you I was engaged… you mentioned it earlier. I had begun to have doubts about him… my feelings for him, before Ally's murder. After I met you and got to know you… well, after our disastrous first meeting in the squad room anyway, my doubts about marrying Tony only increased. Those days with you made my time with him seem wrong somehow. I knew I shouldn't be thinking about you so much and wishing we could see each other more often," Sydney admitted, unconsciously allowing him to nestle her a little closer to his chest. "That night, my only thought was to go look for you, not call him for support. I wanted… needed your company, not his."

Every instinct that he had honed over twenty plus years as a cop screamed that the answers to questions that had kept him awake for years… questions that had helped doom his last marriage to an early end hovered just within his reach. "So, what did Billie Lou say that made you leave without coming inside? I need to know, Syd. I think you need to tell me so we can figure out what happened. If nothing else comes of this, at least tell me so I can stop questioning myself about what I did to drive you away."

Gripping his shoulder a little tighter, she murmured, "I never guessed… I wish I had. You did nothing to drive me away. Did she know we met regularly to talk over breakfast coffee?"

"Our breakfast coffee that usually lasted most of the day? No, she never asked me about you; I never told her about them. Those days were special to me and I horded them to myself… didn't discuss them with anyone. Like I said, we were off more than on at that point. I was having my doubts too," he added. "Tell me… please. I have the feeling she spoke for me without my permission or knowledge that night… may have said things I would like to set right."

Sighing, Sydney relented. "She told me she knew who I was and that I was only going to embarrass both of us if I went inside. She said it was common for civilians to think they were close to the police that handled cases involving their family or friends… to think they had fa… She said they often became a pest for the cop and his family… that I had become a nuisance for you. That's when she told me you were engaged to her and that I needed to leave you alone… get on with my life so the two of you could do the same."

"She what??"


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Instant Karma, Chapter 4

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC; Involves the entire Law & Order universe  
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; some adult content  
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Dick Wolf. Munch isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh!  
Summary: A series of random bombings reunites Munch with the woman that has haunted his sleep for years. In the midst of tragedy, can some much needed good karma open the way for true love delayed? JM/OFC

Instant Karma, Chapter 4

"_She what??"_

Taking a steadying breath, Sydney reached up to lay her hand on the side of his face. "I was confused and… it seemed to make sense. It hurt too much to think she was right and that you had told her you wanted me out of your way, so I scurried back to Boston as soon as I could. After the attack… it was a long time before I was thinking rationally again. When you came to the hospital… I didn't want your pity and I had convinced myself that was all you felt for me. I couldn't bear that, so I turned you away."

"'My pity'?" Munch bit out. "I came because I cared. I was worried out of my head about you, Syd! How could you think..?"

Covering his lips with shaking fingers, she whispers, "I wasn't thinking, Detective. You tell me… how many victims of a near fatal beating are thinking clearly after they wake up from a coma?"

Dropping his forehead to rest against hers, he tightened his hold on her body. "None. I guess I wasn't thinking too clearly either and I had no excuse. I was sure you know how I felt about you and that you were rejecting me. I was hurting and devastated by the sight of you in that hospital bed."

A soft whisper pressed, "How did you feel, John? We never talked about the future… about how we felt about each other in any of those long talks. I kept telling myself you were waiting for Ally's case to be settled so we could put it behind us… at least I was hoping that was what held you back."

The sudden ringing of his cell phone interrupted their conversation before he could answer. Still holding her gaze, Munch pulled his phone from his jacket. "Munch."

"Hey Fin. Here to help pull us out?"

"Banged up, but nothing serious. Sydney is hurt and I need to get her to a doctor as soon as possible."

"Yeah, that Sydney. Imagine the odds of our meeting again under these circumstances… but Fate is a fickle thing, my friend. Your call for example broke into a conversation we should have had seven years ago. You know… the one with the answers to the questions you've heard me agonize over every time I've had too much to drink and start crying into my beer. Turns out I was right… it was a conspiracy that came between us."

"Don't be a smart ass, Detective. I was about to tell her she guessed right; I had been waiting until after the trial to make my intentions… my feelings clear. It didn't seem right to do it while that case still lay between us."

"Nothing like that, Fin. But I am still reeling to discover that the person I eventually turned to for solace and consolation turned out to be the one that drove the wedge between us in the first place. I'm still trying to make sense of the fact I had no clue Billie Lou did what she did. I feel like a first class chump not to have figured it out before now."

"Later. I'll just say it also makes sense of comments and the behavior of my so-called friends… my dear ex in the year that followed. Shit… I actually felt guilty for leaving her!"

"Hell, it's a blessing that we have all of this to occupy our thoughts, buddy. It would drive us both crazy if all we had to do was dwell on the creaking cables over our heads and the fact that its already hotter than hell in here now that the AC is off. What's the word?"

"OK. I'll tell, Syd. How long?"

"Did they say whether we would feel anything?"

"Great! More things to anticipate!"

"Yeah, thanks. Put her on."

"Hi Liv."

"We're OK for now. It would be nice if you could drop us a fan and a bottle of water on a long rope though."

"Sad part is we have a bottle, but it's in Sydney's bag which is wedged behind her. Can't get to it and her bottle of Advil without making the elevator rock and roll."

"Yes, that Sydney."

"I'm fine, Livvie. You'll like her… I promise."

"Nope, I finally have her in my arms and I have every intention of trying to keep her there… if she's amenable that is."

"Is a shy smile a hopeful sign?"

"Good… I thought so. Wish me luck. But back to the larger drama, anything new to report?"

"That's great news! Those cars must not have dropped far. How soon before they can get them out?

Seeing the sparkle of renewed hope light his companion's eyes, he admitted, "I have to admit it's a relief for us both to know there are other survivors. Any word on the investigation?"

"Yeah, I know it's early, but I need some answers. This is a little more personal than most cases."

"OK. We can't do much up here but hang tight and wait for FDNY to reach us. Well, I guess we could…. hummm…. talk, but not much else."

"I will behave. I promise… cross my heart and hope to get the hell out of here so I can help find the bastards that did this."

"Yeah. Later."

"Liv?"

Grinning down into the guarded hazel eyes watching him, he replied, "Yeah, one of the other detectives in my squad. She's very protective of us. Fin is my partner. You'll like them both and I promise there is nothing going on between Olivia and me. I'm completely unattached and up for grabs."

An amused grin washed over her features. "Good to know. Same for me. I haven't dated much since Tony and I broke up while I was in the hospital."

"You broke up while you were in the hospital??? What kind of bastard…"

"One I'm luck not to have married." Still watching him closely, she asked, "I heard right… they found other survivors?"

A relieved sigh preceded, "Yeah, in a couple of the other cars. Responders are still trying to get to some of them, but seven have been transported to the hospital… one critical, but the rest in hopeful conditions."

"What else did your partner say? You said you'd tell me something."

"FNDY will begin sliding the piers under us in the next few minutes. Fin says they wanted us to be warned so we wouldn't freak out if we heard them," he replied. "He also said the car may move a bit as they maneuver them into position, so we need to remain as still as possible."

"Where did they think we would be going… or doing?"

In a soft, hopeful tone, he asked, "Going? Maybe out to dinner together once you're back on your feet… maybe sooner? You know… an honest to goodness date?"

A troubled expression clouded her features. "John… can we do that? Pick-up where we were seven years ago and go from there? How do we get past all that's happened in the time between?"

Munch frowned at her response. "Is that a polite way of saying…?"

"No! I want this chance too, but… I also need for us to be completely honest with each other, John. We weren't seven years ago and that fed my doubts… yours too I suspect." Tightening her grip on his waist as she felt the elevator shift and heard the sound of scrapping metal echo around them, she took a deep breath and admitted, "I was falling in love with you and it scared me. You hadn't said anything and it was easy for Billie Lou to convince me I had read too much into your feelings out of a blindness caused by my own."

Releasing the nervous breath he had not realized he was holding, he cuddled her a little closer. "I was falling… I fell in love with you, Syd. I've never felt about anyone the way I felt… feel about you. I was depressed for a long time and ended up marrying Billie Lou to prove something to myself, but it was a disaster from the first night… literally, but that's another long, embarrassing story for another time. As soon as I said 'I do', I knew I didn't and never would."

Breathing in the scent of her hair, he added, "We never even lived together after the wedding, but, by then, I felt I had gone too far. I had betrayed my feelings for you; I felt I didn't have the right to approach you again. So I retired from the force, gave up my share of the bar in the divorce, and moved here. I still dream about you… your image has haunted many sleepless nights."

Stunned by the depth of his admission, Sydney could only stare up into his eyes, captured by the uncharacteristic vulnerability he was showing. Softly, she whispered, "It's been the same for me… the sleepless nights thinking about you. I lived for the time I spent with you and I didn't even have those infrequent long talks on the phone to get me through. I've missed you, John. I love you too."

Bending to press a gentle kiss to her lips, the memory of the painful encounter with a departmental physiatrist came back to him completely unbidden. Dr. Audrey Jackson had gotten to him, but not for the exact reason she had thought. Their session had haunted him for years.

-----

_Flashback (Law & Order: SVU, Season 1 --- "Slaves")_

"_Do you have a girlfriend?"_

"_Do you" _

"_Well, have you dated at all since transferring to this unit?"_

"_Ah, now I see where you're going with this. Does dealing with sexual deviants every day affect me? The answer is no. Just ask my blowup doll."_

"_Do you think that this job has had any effect on your sex life?"_

"_No, but I think I've pinpointed what has. Believe it or not, I have serious intimacy issues. I'm critical and negative. I have an occasional bout of... let's see, melancholy? I'm a lousy date, but a good cop. So, I guess that just about covers everything." _

"_Uh, no. Actually, we have 45 minutes."_

"_So I suppose you want to hear a detailed account of my sexual history? But how are we going to kill the remaining 44 minutes?"_

"_Do you always deflect personal questions with jokes?"_

"_Do you always deflect jokes with personal questions?"_

"_Have you ever experienced any sexual dysfunction since taking this job? And I'd appreciate a serious answer."_

"_Once."_

"_Thank you. When did that happen?"_

"_I'm not sure, but it was definitely within the last 10 minutes. I'm sorry. Look, I'm not good at talking about me. You're the expert, why don't you talk about me?" _

"_Okay. You've been married multiple times. Each wife was beautiful, spoiled, and not one of them matched you intellectually. You distrust all women, any form of government, and you could smell conspiracy at a five-year-old's lemonade stand." _

"_Anything else?" _

"_You've given up on relationships. But you still believe in true love. And the pain of never having found it is unbearable." _

_End flashback.  
_

-----

John reluctantly broke the kiss, only to become lost in the sparkling hazel eyes that opened to meet his. The golden flecks in their depths seemed to glow with new life. Wrapping her more comfortably in his arms, he at last faced the secret demon Audrey Jackson had unwittingly set loose in his heart… a demon he had tried to ignore for years through biting sarcasm or by drinking himself into oblivion.

Yes, he did still believe in true love, but what he found unbearable wasn't that he had not found it. What had kept him awake night after night was the unshakable certainty that he had found it… the fear it was forever lost to him. For the first time in many years, a sense of peace settled around his heart.

"I love you too, Syd. I always have."

-----


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Instant Karma, Chapter 5

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC; Involves the entire Law & Order universe  
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; some adult content  
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Dick Wolf. Munch isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh!  
Summary: A series of random bombings reunites Munch with the woman that has haunted his sleep for years. In the midst of tragedy, can some much needed good karma open the way for true love delayed? JM/OFC

Instant Karma, Chapter 5

"Well?"

"It's her."

"Damn! That's just want we need… Munch getting his heart broken again," Cragen groaned. "I hate it for him and I hate it for us!"

Olivia Benson looked back and forth between the two men, giving them equally disdainful glares. "Why are you assuming he doesn't know what he doing? John Munch is one of the most intelligent people I know. Maybe she is the one. God knows he's mooned over her for years! And he deserves a chance to be happy if he loves her like he claims. We all know that if he has more than a beer or two, he will obsess over her for the rest of the night."

"Get real, Liv! We all know where this is going, 'cos this is Munch. The man is a great cop, but clueless when it comes to the ladies," Fin insisted. "I've heard it all from him… a lot more than either of you, and I know enough to see the future about this. Its only a matter of time before he gets broken again and, when the times comes for him to try putting himself back together again, I worry he may not have it left in him."

"I'm with Fin on this one, Liv," Cragen added, pulling them to one side so their conversation wouldn't be overheard. They were waiting for the lead detectives on the case to give them their assignments and knew better than to get in the way until they had. "For all his sarcasm and cynical observations, John's been carrying a major torch for this lady for years. She left him high and dry once. Why should we expect better this time?"

"I hate to say this and maybe jinx him, but he did say they were talking… a talk they should have had seven years ago. He mentioned that somehow his ex had a hand in what went wrong. Like to know more on that score. Billie Lou must be a piece of work from what he says about her," Fin mused.

"Well, yeah. She left him for another homicide detective from his old unit," Olivia began. "He's still smarting over that."

Shaking his head, Fin corrected her. "Munch told people that when he first got here… actually believed she had, but it didn't really happen like that. He avoided talking to her for years after he left her, but she ran him down when he was in Baltimore when his former CO got shot... made his listen to the whole story. He came back feeling even worse for thinking that of either of them, but once he'd told the story here, he was stuck with it. It would have been too embarrassing to correct it at that point and it added to his guilt about the whole mess."

"She didn't leave him?" Cragen asked, clearly surprised. "Why did he think she had? It made him look pretty pathetic that she left him the next morning for someone else."

"I really shouldn't say… he told me this stuff in confidence," Fin hedged, clearly regretting what he had already told them.

"Too late to clam up now, Fin," Cragen insisted. "If they make it out of the elevator alive, he's going to need our support if things go bad for them. And, damn it, I want to know. We sure as hell have had to listen to him whine about Sydney and Billie Lou for years, so I think we've earned the right to know… so spill. Consider it an order it that helps."

"I've not really sure why he thought Billie Lou had left him for the other cop," Fin finally admitted. "Truth is he tried to fool himself that he could make it work with her, but he never should have married her. He was hurting after Sydney turned her back on him and he married Billie Lou on the rebound; she was hot to be Mrs. Munch #4. John says he knew he'd made a serious mistake as soon as they got to his place after the ceremony."

"The marriage really lasted only one night? I thought that was just John being dramatic." Olivia inserted.

Sighing, Fin hedged his answer. "They were actually married for several years. The divorce wasn't finalized until long after he moved here. Billie Lou refused to sign the papers even though he eventually gave up his share of the bar to her in the divorce. She wanted him back… most have really loved him."

"But the marriage was over for all intents and purposes after their wedding night… they never lived together as husband and wife." Rubbing his neck to relieve the tension, he continued. "Everybody around them took sides… those that were down on him for leaving her and those that thought Munch was right about her and the other cop. I've always assumed Gharty felt bad for Billie Lou and was just being a friend, but there may have been more… maybe he wanted her for himself and Munch knew it. I've seen her picture and she's a serious looker. Anyway, John was miserable living in the middle of all that, so he retired and moved here."

"What else are you holding back?" Olivia demanded, sensing he knew more than he had shared. "Dish!"

Frowning, Fin added, "They had a brief 'reconciliation' while he was in Baltimore. It was only one-night… rebuilt his confidence a little, but he went back to New York on the next day's train. She made it convenient, but he feels guilty as hell about letting it happen. He's had a few one-nighters since… but no attempts at seriously dating anyone. He'd finally admitted to himself he loved Sydney and didn't want anybody else… didn't want to hurt anyone else like he must have hurt Billie Lou."

"Damn, I didn't know any of this," Cragen admitted. "Did he really have the 'problem' during their wedding night or is that another story?"

"Naw… that happened. And remember, he thought he was telling us the truth about Billie Lou. He was hurting and needed to vent. He felt guilty and embarrassed once he got back from Baltimore, so he never talked about it again… except with me," Fin clarified. "He wasn't lying; he was just wrong about the facts, Cap. He probably should have corrected the record, but… like you said yourself, the story made him look pretty pathetic. He's been struggling to put it behind him… without much success. He's never gotten over Sydney."

"So, what happened on their wedding night?" Olivia pressed.

"The way he told me is it finally hit home what a mistake he'd made and he just wanted to get the hell out of there as quickly as he could… though I don't think he meant for it to be 'quick' like that. He says he intended to make an excuse about being called in to work and then tell her he wanted an annulment the next day. She didn't give him a chance and… they ended up in bed," Fin confided. "It really shook his pride and confidence."

"What are you talking about?" Liv demanded, looking back and forth between the two men.

Trading a look with Fin, Cragen dropped his voice to a whisper. "It seems Billie Lou put him in 'dry-dock' in the weeks prior to the wedding thinking it would make the wedding night special… rekindle their passion. That alone should have told them the marriage was doomed. Anyway, it had the opposite effect and the night ended a lot earlier than they had planned. John was humiliated and never went back. Went to the bar he co-owned and spent the rest of the night drinking."

"Ouch!"

"Yeah… big time ouch!" Fin agreed. "I've always wondered if Billie Lou knew about Sydney and John's non-date dates. If she did, she may have been trying to remake herself to be more like Sydney. John always describes Sydney as a 'classy lady'… refined, cultured, and highly educated. Maybe Billie Lou hoped it would make him see her with fresh eyes… make him anticipate being with her. It's clear she wanted to get married a lot more than he did, no matter what he told her."

Sighing, Olivia nodded. "He does seem to have an unfailing ability for finding women that are needy and demanding… that just don't get him. From what I can gather, none of his wives shared his interests or were at all intellectual. A man like John needs more than a pretty face and he doesn't seem to realize that until after he says 'I do'. He lives in his head too much to be happy with a brainless beauty for long."

Glancing over at the activity surrounding the detectives from the 2-7, she mused, "His feelings for Sydney are more complex than those he had for the other women in his life. Their circumstances prevented him from pursuing her and they actually got to know each other on a lot of different levels. He fell in love with a lot more than her looks and body. That's why he's still in love with her seven years later. From what he's said, I've always found her later behavior incompatible with the woman he describes."

"I see that, but she still turned her back on him… cut him out of her life. Unless their talk explains that, I still don't see this working out for him. All we can do is keep a good thought for them… assuming FDNY can get them out in time. He will need our support whether it works or not," Cragen concluded, catching sight of their fellow officers walking in their direction. "Anita… Ed, Joe. Where do you want us?"

A/N --- I've always wondered about the discrepancies over the end of his marriage to Billie Lou in the first episodes of L&O:SVU and the last episode of Homicide… and the Movie. This is my attempt at making them make sense… and it gives me a way of explaining his 'secret' relationship with Sydney. I admit up-front to playing with the timeline in Baltimore a little, but other than that… shuffles feet and tries to look innocent.

-----

"The sudden silence is as unnerving as the scrapping metal," Munch observed, staring at the floor of the elevator as if he was waiting for the din that had filled the car moments earlier to begin again.

"Humm… I wonder if they were able to get the braces into place under us?"

"I'm going to assume that they did since they finished so quickly. If they had trouble setting them, I think they would have tried longer before giving up," he reasoned.

"Makes sense, but I wish we knew for sure. Knowing we had braces under us would be welcome news at this point," she agreed. Pausing for a moment, Sydney added, "Maybe its just wishful thinking, but the car doesn't seem to be swaying anymore."

"I was thinking the same thing."

Tilting her head to meet his gaze, she asked, "Is someone going to call us with an update?"

"They are supposed to… but they may have been pulled into helping do the leg work for the investigation," Munch replied. "Something this big becomes priority one for the whole department and the detectives get assigned responsibility for gathering as much information as quickly as possible before people scatter across the boroughs… or worse, talk to too many others and taint their observations by shared memories."

"So, one person thinks they saw something and it seems to fit into a gap in another's memory, so it becomes part of the second person's story?"

"Exactly. That kind of created memory can bog down an investigation," John agreed.

"How do you sort out that type of factual error?" Sydney asked, returning to a reoccurring topic in their conversations in Baltimore. It had pleased him that she found police work fascinating and it had given him a much needed outlet to talk though difficult cases in a way he could not with other women he had known.

"Sometimes it's obvious and gets tossed to one side immediately, but that's not the case as often as we would like. I've seen detectives get led down one path only to find out they wasted a lot of time and resources tracking down a phantom more times than I care to remember. It can be frustrating and it's usually luck rather than skill that helps you avoid that pitfall," he admitted.

"So, is it fair to suggest that most of the time a defense attorney tries to claim the cops planted evidence or deliberately ignored something, it is more often than not something like this… a factual error that didn't get caught?" she proposed.

"In some cases, maybe." Grinning, he added, "This may surprise you, but I'm a bit of a cynic. I think most of the time the attorney is just trying to muddy the water and smear the cops… truth be damned."

Chuckling, Sydney teased, "John Munch a cynic? I never knew! You hide it so well."

"I do try."

Still grinning, she asked, "I guess you'd like to be in the middle of the investigation for something this big."

A thoughtful expression settled onto his face as he commented, "We're as deep in the middle of this as we can be, beautiful. Fin and the others are on the outside looking in. Interesting perspective… one I usually don't get."

Studying his expression for clues, she asked, "Can I assume your friends know about me from what I overheard?"

Dipping his head to give her his trademark over the top of his glasses smirk, Munch agreed, "You might be safe to assume that."

Sighing, she snuggled against his chest trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her knee. "So, I have an uphill battle ahead of me to win them over."

"Maybe. They are my home team after all," he teased. "They tend to root for their hero."

Snorting with amusement, she responded, "'their hero'? I'd love to see your bubblegum card! The 'stats' would be fascinating to say the least."

"Yeah, but I scored without steroids."

"I am sooo not touching that one!"

Bending to press a kiss to the crown of her head, he inquired, "Not touching what? This sounds promising."

To his surprise, she became instantly serious. "John… I need to be honest with you. I haven't… I haven't dated anyone seriously since… And, I'd only been with two men before that, including Tony. I need for you to understand… that part of things may take me a while. We may get to a point where I freeze up on you and… It might not happen, but it may. OK?"

Mentally kicking himself for not having expected this, he soothed, "Syd, I don't plan to put any pressure on you; I don't expect us to fall into bed at the first opportunity. We will go at your pace. I'm just happy to have the chance to see if we can build a relationship together… the one we were developing seven years ago or a new one that fits our lives now. I understand… I promise."

It tore at his heart to see the wounds that still bled from the attack that had nearly taken her life. "I guess you've seen worse in your time on the force. It's just… Tony and I were having fights about… about pretty much everything at the end. I think he knew I had fallen for you and he was jealous. That made him unpredictable… mean. He would fly into a rage over nothing. Not long before the trial began, I heard rumors he was cheating on me… probably had for most of the time we were dating. I wanted to break it off, but… I was scared of him… his reaction. I was glad to see the last of him."

Going utterly still, Munch struggled to contain his anger before asking, "Did he physically abuse you?"

A faint nod was his answer. "He would shake me and get rough, but he never hit me until… he lost it one night a week before I was attacked. He had been out drinking with his buddies and came to my place to 'set me straight'. I managed to get away from him with only a black eye and a split lip… ran to my neighbors for help. Jeff and Andy took care of him. I didn't see him again until the hospital after I woke up. When you got there, it had only been only a few hours since I'd told him to get out and never come near me again."

"He had the nerve to show after what he did?" Munch demanded.

"I wasn't surprised by anything he did at that point, but I wasn't doing too well when you got there. All I wanted was throw myself into your arms and cry, but I thought you were engaged to someone else, so I sent you away instead," she whispered. "Timing… maybe if I had been thinking more clearly, I might have given you a chance to talk to me first and saved us the grief."

"I guess his cheating made you more sensitive to that issue and… given what Billie Lou had told you, made you think I was no better." Rubbing soothing circles along her spine, he promised, "I don't pretend to be without faults… lots of them, but I swear that Billie Lou and I didn't get engaged until months after I got back to Baltimore. I also swear I've never been abusive… never hit a woman or used force to get my way. You can trust me, Syd."

Smiling slightly, she reached up to caress his cheek. "I never doubted that, John. The fact that I'm able to let you hold me like this… I haven't let anyone this close since that night.

Settling back against him, she confided, "I'm not really surprised that I 'm comfortable with you though. I always trusted you and… I used to leave for Boston exhausted from the effort not to make a move. I spent many nights fantasizing about our first kiss… when, where, how…"

A wicked grin lit his face. "'where, how'? I guess I'm pretty old-fashioned, but I always assumed on the lips and in the usual way. I can't wait to hear what alternatives you came up with!"

"John! You know…" The blush that swept over her features amused him. Chuckling, she added, "I love you sense of humor… most of the time."

"That's a relief. Most people find me an acquired taste… one they have no interest in acquiring," he teased, relieved to see the shadows in her eyes recede as she laughed. "You always gave as good as you got when we would get into one of our bantering sessions. Fin is the only one that bothers to pay my rants any attention these days, so he'll appreciate having you around to take some of the burden off of him. He says it's a full-time job to keep me entertained."

"Glad to do what I can to help the cause," she smiled. "I have to admit… our actual 'where' never made it to my list, but the kiss was all I had dreamed it would be… even better."

The wound to his confidence from his failed wedding night to Billie Lou began to hurt a little less hearing her words. "Humm… it was pretty incredible." Smiling, he bent to kiss her again.

-----


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Instant Karma, Chapter 6

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC; Involves the entire Law & Order universe  
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; some adult content  
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Dick Wolf. Munch isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh!  
Summary: A series of random bombings reunites Munch with the woman that has haunted his sleep for years. In the midst of tragedy, can some much needed good karma open the way for true love delayed? JM/OFC

Instant Karma, Chapter 6

Needing to finish putting some issues behind them, John asked, "They never found the thugs that attacked you did they?"

"No. The detectives on my case didn't put a lot of effort into closing the case… and I was too scared to confront them like I did you about Ally's case," she admitted. "Tony had a lot of friends on the force. I always felt he was behind the attack… that he sent them to finish teaching me the lesson he started a week earlier. It must have been a blow to his pride to have two gay men beat him up, so I've always felt the attack was payback for my friendship with them as much as from his desire to dominate me."

"Two gay men?"

Nodding, she clarified. "My neighbors, Jeff and Andy. They went after him when they saw what he had done to me and beat him to a pulp. That was the main reason I never filed charges against him for battery that night. I didn't want to get them into any trouble. He hated gays and was always making nasty comments. My friendship with them was a reoccurring argument between us. He even tried to 'forbid' me from hanging out with them. He was a real bastard."

"The cops covered for him?" John demanded, outraged, but hardly surprised.

Caressing his cheek to calm them both, she nodded. "I… we know it happens, John. Any doubts that I had about Tony being behind the attack evaporated when the lead detective came to see me one night after I got home from the hospital. He patted my hand and told me not to worry… that Tony wouldn't be bothering me anymore. He said the patrols would be keeping a special eye on me to make sure."

"Damn! I really let you down…" he began.

"No… you had nothing to do with what happened. I made a bad chose and was lucky to get out of the situation alive." Sighing, she added, "You're a cop… you know better than I do how many women get killed by abusive partners. And, as bad as the attack was, it could have been worse. They were scared off before they could rape me. I recovered from the injuries and the police kept him away from me. That's more than they do in some cases. I'm lucky and I know it."

Nuzzling her hair, he admitted, "I feel like I let you down both by not trying to get to the bottom of what caused you to push me away and by not staying that day at the hospital… riding the Boston PD to get results. You deserved justice, damn it!"

"It would have been nice… more because it bothers me those animals are still out there and could hurt someone else, but I've accepted it won't happen at this point. You did nothing wrong; you didn't let me down. Tony did," she insisted. "Promise me you won't feel guilty for something you had no part in causing. Help me put it behind me so we can be together. That's all I want, John."

"We will, baby. We will," he soothed, cradling her against him. "How's the knee?"

"Hurts like hell," she replied. "How's your ankle?"

"Not so bad."

"Liar! I can see how swollen it is! Your shoe looks like it will have to be cut off," she scolded.

Grimacing, he admitted, "It would feel better if I could get the damned shoe off. Can you reach it and help me toe it off?"

"If you hold me steady, I think I can."

Settling back into his arms once the shoe was off, she asked, "Is that better?"

"Yeah… much." Using her help as an excuse for another kiss, John gently claimed her lips. "Thanks."

Smiling up at him, she murmured. "My pleasure."

-----

After a moment's comfortable silence, Sydney asked, "Are you still in homicide?"

Hesitating, Munch chose his words with care. "No, I'm a detective with the Special Victims Unit… SVU. We deal with child and domestic abuse cases, as well as, sex crimes, though we do get more than a few homicides."

"Oh… you said that when you called 911. I guess it didn't really sink in at the time." She silently considered this information before offering, "That must be… really tough to handle. I guess you understand how lucky I was more than most men, even other cops, would."

"All to well, Syd, and yes, it is tough going some days." Sighing, he admitted, "I thought homicide was bad, but… the cases that involve children are the worst. I've considered retiring many times over the last few years, but I can't make myself walk away. I feel the need to help protect the victims in those situations even if it does tear me apart most of the time."

"I can't claim to know much about what motivates someone to hurt a child… anyone like that, but I'm a good listener, John" Beginning to massage the taunt muscles in his neck and shoulders, she offered, "I want to be there if you need me. It must be lonely facing those days alone."

Tilting his head to allow her hands greater freedom, he let himself indulge in the pleasure of such a simple touch. "It is, but… I don't want to burden you…"

A soft finger drifted up his lips to still his words. "I won't break, John. I wasn't suggesting you tell me details. I know you can't anyway. I meant let me help you sort out your thoughts and feelings… you know talk like we did in Baltimore. Your work is a big part of who you are and, if you keep all of that bottled up and away from me, I don't think we have much chance to make a go of this relationship."

"It's just… I see some pretty awful things, Syd. I don't want to bring you into direct contact with that. I'd feel like I was… pulling you into the gutter with me," he confessed.

A tear trickled down her cheek as she asked, "Is that how you see your life, John? That you live in the gutter with the criminals and perverts you chase?"

Caught off guard by the tear and her question, he nodded. "I guess I do. I… the job takes its toll, honey. We see awful things day after day and, after a while, it either breaks a cop or you grow hardened to it. I've been doing this so long, I've grown hard and cynical."

"I think you admitted earlier you were born cynical, John," she softly teased. "We'll discuss the part about your growing hard another time."

Smiling at his sputter of laughter, she added, "If we are going to give ourselves a chance, you need to feel you can talk to me. I'd like to think I could tell you things I might not tell anyone else."

"You know you can!"

"So can you, John!" Sydney insisted. "I don't want to take and offer nothing in return. You deserve more, damn it!"

A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth, drawing a gently caress from her fingertips. "Do I?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "I didn't just fall in love with you… I LIKE you, John. I enjoy your company. I love hearing your opinions and theories. You fascinate and engage me. I feel so alive around you. I always have."

Shifting his head so that he could press a kiss into the palm of her hand, he admitted, "I'm not sure I know how to react to this, sweetheart. I've been alone most of my life… even when I've been in a relationship. You're going to have to be patient with me. It may take me some time to open up to you like that."

"Well, you agreed to be patient with me while I sort out my emotional baggage," she reminded him. "I think it's a fair trade for me to give you the same opportunity."

Grinning, he noted, "I think I have more issues to address than you!"

"Oh, that's a given, but I love you anyway."

-----

Don Cragen paused at the door to the stairs on the sixth floor. Spotting several FDNY paramedics clustered near the bank of elevators, he moved quickly in their direction. After identifying himself, he asked, "What the latest on getting Det. Munch and Dr. Riley out?"

"We've managed to rig several supports under their car, so their situation isn't as bad as it was when we first arrived," a young EMT replied. "But, we've run into a snag in getting a line down to the car to hold it up while we open the trap door and pull them out. It may take another hour or two to get the cable in place. Damage topside to the elevator shaft itself is pretty bad. It's a miracle that the emergency brake managed to stop them at all."

"So… how bad it it?" Cragen demanded.

"They are in no immediate danger of dropping. The piers are pretty solid," a second EMT assured him. "The guys up top have decided to rig the cable to a main support that is some distance from the elevator core to be sure it's still structurally sound. The welders should be ready to drop the cable within the timeline Jimmy gave you, Captain."

Frowning, Cragen nodded. "Thanks. I'll check back with you in an hour. If you have any problems, give me a call. Here's my cell number."

-----

"John?"

"Humm?"

"I've been thinking?" Sydney began.

"Should I call the press and give them the news?"

Sending him a mock glare, she ordered, "Stop being my Munchkin and just be Det. Munch, please. I may know something that could help the investigation. It probably nothing, but…"

Growing instantly serious, John asked, "What?"

"Like I said, it's probably nothing and they probably already know this, but," shifting slightly so that she could see his face better, she continued, "Two Saturdays ago, I was working late in my office. It's up on the 16th floor. It was after 11:00. I had lost track of time trying to finish a paper. A colleague of mine at UVA and I were working on the final draft… instant messenging and emails all evening. We had a publication deadline the following Monday and that was the only time we had to work on it."

"OK. We'll discuss the matter of you being in this building alone at night all the way up on the top floor… on a weekend later," he warned. "What happened that you think could be linked to today?"

"I won't be doing that ever again, I promise, but I'll get to that in a second." Taking a deep breath, she continued. "I was finishing up, getting ready to leave when the phone rang. It was the security guard in the lobby. He had called to check on me and to alert me that the University's Maintenance Department was going to be shutting down all of the elevators around 11:30. They were having trouble with one of the elevators and needed to take them all off-line to trace the problem. Zed… the guard, suggested I get ready to leave unless I wanted to make a 16-story hike down the stairs. I told him I would be down in five minutes."

"Wait a second," John interjected. "The University Maintenance Department knew there were problems with the elevators in this building almost two weeks ago?"

"It sounded like a routine kind of thing and it was the U's staff doing the work, so it seemed perfectly innocent… normal" she explained. "I had forgotten that part of it until just now."

"Well, what part did you remember… think was more significant?"

"The three guys they sent. Two of them were… scary. They got way out of line; I filed a complaint with Zed," she admitted. "I had planned to follow up with him today to make sure action was taken to deal with them for their conduct. If he hadn't, I was going to file a complaint with the police. The fact that it was the elevators they came to work on seemed secondary until now."

"What… they tried to assault you?!" he demanded. "You filed a complaint that night?"

"Zed arrived before it went too far, but… I was scared out of my head. Flashbacks to Boston," she admitted. "And, yes, I filed a complaint with Zed before I left. Not with NYPD, but Campus Security. He said he'd handle it from there."

Tightening his hold on her body, he scolded, "Why did you wait until today to follow-up?"

"I haven't been back here since that night," she replied. "I left early the following Monday for a conference in California, then rented a car to drive up the coast to visit my nephew in Portland. He attends the film school there. I didn't get back to the City until late Sunday night. I was in a meeting across town all day yesterday."

"OK… this sounds serious, Syd. Let me try and get Ed Green on the phone and make sure he knows about this."

-----


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Instant Karma, Chapter 7

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC; Involves the entire Law & Order universe  
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; some adult content  
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Dick Wolf. Munch isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh!  
Summary: A series of random bombings reunites Munch with the woman that has haunted his sleep for years. In the midst of tragedy, can some much needed good karma open the way for true love delayed? JM/OFC

Instant Karma, Chapter 7

Pulling out his cell, John keyed Ed Green's number. "He probably has this information already, but… Ed. John Munch."

"Thanks, but I'm not calling for an update on our rescue. My companion just remembered something that might be of interest to the investigation."

"No. Sydney works up on 16 at one of the University's research institutes. She remembered an incident from two Saturdays ago involving the elevators."

"Yeah, so you know…"

"What? That's doesn't jibe with her story. Syd says they closed down the entire bank of elevators that night for a system overhaul."

"Yeah, the whole system."

"She had been focused on an incident with the workers themselves. I stopped her before she told me the whole story… figured you needed to hear it too and I wanted you to hear it fresh. She may be able to give you a description or names of some men she encountered. Hold on… let me put you on speakerphone."

Pulling the phone away from his head, Munch pressed the button to activate the speaker. "Ed? Can you hear me?"

His fellow NYPD detective's voice joined theirs in the elevator. "Yeah, John. Introduce me to your companion."

"Det. Ed Green… Dr. Sydney Riley. Syd, start over and tell us what happened that night," Munch instructed.

"Hi, Det. Green. As I was telling John, I worked late that Saturday night trying to finish a paper. It was shortly after 11 when the security guard from the lobby called me and suggested I get ready to leave. Zed said they had been having trouble with one of the elevators that day and University Maintenance was shutting down all the cars so they could find the problem. I got ready and left my office within five minutes," she repeated.

"You said you spoke to a guard. What was his name? It sounded like you called him Zed," Green asked.

"I did. His name is Paul Zalewski, but his nickname is Zed… the French pronunciation of the letter 'Z'. His wife is French Canadian and gave him the name. He's a retired NYPD officer. Nice guy," she supplied. "Takes his duties very seriously."

"Got it. He told you they were closing down all of the elevators for repair?"

"That's what he said."

"OK, so you were on your way down?" Green prompted.

"Yes. He and the other guard, Roger… I think his last name is Sloan, had checked on me several times that night. I think I was about the only person here besides them. They're great about things like that," she reported. "Anyway, I went to the 16th floor lobby and called down for an elevator… only two run at night. I was sorting through my bag… making sure I hadn't left anything in the office when I heard the car arrive on my floor. I started to walk in without really looking and was startled to find three men inside."

Ed Green's interest in the conversation noticeably spiked. "Three men? University maintenance workers?"

"Yes. All three were wearing the standard dark green work uniform with the U's crest on the pocket. I think I surprised them as much as they did me, but…" she hesitated.

"Tell us, Syd," Munch pressed.

Looking up into his intense stare, she admitted, "Two of the men scared me."

"Why is that, Dr. Riley?" Green demanded.

"They seemed angry to see me. One of them demanded to know what I was doing there. I told him it was none of his business and tried to get onto the elevator. I just wanted to get out of there." Reflexively tightening her hold on John, she continued. "He reached out and grabbed my arm. The second one demanded to know who I was, crowded in on me from the other side… pulled my carry-all bag out of my hands. I was getting pretty panicked when the other elevator opened and Zed appeared."

"These guys grabbed you?" John exclaimed, squeezing her to him.

"Yes. Zed saw what was happening and made a show of resting his hand on his waist next to his holster… said something like 'Good, I see you're ready to go. Let's get you into a cab.'" Shivering with remembered fear, she finished, "They finally let me go after several tense seconds… the third guy said something like, 'Ease up, man. Let her go.' I grabbed my bag back and rushed over to Zed so we could get out of there. He gave me a long lecture all the way down to the main lobby about the dangers of working late. I swore that was the last time I would! I was scared to death!"

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she continued. "He told me he would report them to their supervisor the next day. He said I would need to sign a complaint to document the incident, so I did before I left. I planned to talk to him today and see what had happened while I was out of town. Frankly, the fact that they were there to work on the elevators had slipped my mind. I was focused on their behavior. That's why it took me until now to think of it."

"Easy to see why that happened. And it's not like you haven't had a few other things occupying your thoughts this morning," Green agreed, oblivious to the full wealth of meaning in his statement. Sydney felt John grin slightly in response to the comment. "You say you were out of town?"

"Yes… I went to the West Coast for a conference and to visit family. I left that Monday on the red-eye and got back into town day before yesterday. Today is my first day back in my office since that night. I was in a meeting across town all day yesterday," she repeated.

"Can you remember names… describe these men for me?"

"Absolutely… I remember them quite well. I had seen one of them before… the third one. I think his name is Bill or Bob. He may to be assigned to this building because I've seen him around a lot." Pausing, she offered, "He's shorter than average… maybe 5'6"… sandy brown hair, wears glasses. He's stocky and has a round face. I'd guess he's in his mid-thirties."

"OK, great. What about the other two?"

"The one that grabbed me was older… mid-to-late forties. He was around 6', very muscular… a body-builder type." Thinking back, she added, "He had a beard and mustache… dark brown hair, but balding on top. Square, blocky features. Dark eyes… brown I think, but I can't swear to that. I caught his first name on his ID badge… Gerald."

"Excellent. And the third?"

"He was around the same age as the second guy, but taller… maybe 6'3" or 6'4". His hair was black. He had a muscular build, but not to the extent of the other one. He might have been good-looking except… he had cold eyes. They were pale blue… reminded me of dead fish eyes. He had a dark tan and it made his eyes stand out…. look wild." Shivering with the memory, she concluded, "He looked a little like Tom Selleck, but he was… menacing for wont of a better description. I didn't see his badge, so I don't have a name for him."

"Dark skin or was it a tan?" John asked.

"Tan. His skin had that weathered look of someone that spends a lot of time outside in the elements," she clarified. "The other guy… Gerald, did too."

"You have a remarkable memory, Dr. Riley," Green observed.

"I'm just Sydney, Detective. I tend to remember details and those two scared me," she replied.

"Sydney has a near photographic memory, Ed. You can trust her descriptions," John inserted. "If she was unsure, she'd tell you."

"I take it you two know each other," he asked, clearly fishing for details.

"Your skills in detection are showing, Eddie! We hadn't seen each other in years before this morning, but… finding Sydney again is the one amazing and wonderful thing to happen in the midst of this tragedy, my friend." Hugging her close, he asked, "This give you anything?"

"Maybe. Sydney, did any of them have an accent?" Ed asked.

"Not a foreign accent if that's what you mean. They all had New York accents… Brooklyn I think, but I'm still too new to the City to be sure I got that right," she cautioned. "They were local is the best I can swear to."

"That narrows the field. I take it none of them looked Middle-eastern?"

Shaking her head, she replied, "No, all three appeared to be of European ancestry."

"I had to ask given the rumors going around down here… legacy of 9/11."

"I understand, Det. The possibility that it was a terrorist attack occurred to us too," she admitted.

"Sign of the times. You said they were wearing uniforms and University ID badges? Were you wearing yours?" he questioned.

"They were all dressed alike in the work uniforms the maintenance crews wear and they had their badges hanging around their necks," she replied. "I wasn't wearing mine since it was Saturday. It was in my bag."

"Would you willing to sit with a sketch artist and help us put a face on these guys if we can't run them down?" Green inquired.

Sydney fixed John with a worried look. "Do you suspect they aren't University maintenance workers?" she asked.

There was a noticeable silence on the other end of the line. "University Maintenance has a work order on record for a repair to one of the elevators in this building on the day you had this encounter, but their records indicate it was nothing more than a short in the panel that their man… Bob Perkins, repaired before he went off-duty at 5. There is no mention of the entire bank being taken off line for the night for a system overhaul nor is there a mention of three workers being paid for overtime that night. We had dismissed the incident as low priority, but it now jumps to the top of our list."

Staring up at John, Sydney asked. "What does that mean, Det.?"

"It means I need to talk to Bob Perkins immediately about the discrepancy between his report and what you were told. I'd also like to talk to the two security guards to see what more they can tell me about that night." Ending the call, Green added, "I've just been told that FDNY should have the cable ready to attach to your car within the hour. Hopefully, you'll be out of there shortly. Hang in there… and thanks for the information."

-----


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Instant Karma, Chapter 8

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC; Involves the entire Law & Order universe  
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; some adult content  
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Dick Wolf. Munch isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh!  
Summary: A series of random bombings reunites Munch with the woman that has haunted his sleep for years. In the midst of tragedy, can some much needed good karma open the way for true love delayed? JM/OFC

Instant Karma, Chapter 8

The two had fallen into silence after thoroughly rehashing their conversation with Green. Wanting a change of topic from her uneasy thoughts, Sydney asked, "Tell me about the others in your squad. What's your partner Fin like?"

Smiling down at her, John offered, "Odafin Tutuola. Great guy… you'll like him. One of the best cops I've ever known. He has a far more serious demeanor than I do, but he's just as snarky and opinionated as me."

"I feel for the rest of your squad!"

Grinning, John agreed. "You should! Fin worked in Narcotics for years, mostly undercover… developed great instincts. He has a very dry sense of humor and doesn't cut me any slack. Fin's tough and no-nonsense, but he has my back."

"And he's your friend."

"Yeah. Fin's my best friend… though he will have to relinquish that title to you," he suggested, a hopeful smile softening the lines of his face. "You seem to be interested in more from me than just ravishing my body."

"True, but I thought I was pretty clear that I have been lusting after that too!" Sydney responded, the mock leer on her face causing him to laugh. "Hey… don't diss my play! I was being seductive."

"How can you joke at this point? Your knee has to be killing you. You're pale as a ghost and I can feel you trembling with pain," he observed. "We've been down here for over three hours… it's hot and I'm jonesing for a caffeine fix, but you've barely complained at all. I want to rant about my ankle, but your bravery is making that impossible. I'll look like a wuss if I do."

"You have a choice, Det. Munch. Either I can make jokes or I can cry," she admitted. "I'm hurting like hell, but crying won't make it stop or either one of us feel any better. Besides, I prefer laughter to tears."

"And therein we find the first of many differences in our personalities," he observed, his dry humor softening the comment. "I see the glass as being completely empty… a veritable dust bowl with tumbleweeds rolling across an arid plain. You, on the other hand, see lemonade… pink lemonade no doubt, swimming in lots of crushed ice filled all the way up to the brim."

"Couldn't you find a few more metaphors to shoehorn in there? Maybe references to counting eggs and giving away free milk," she jabbed, falling back into their old pattern of rapid-fire banter hoping for a few minutes distraction. "And you forgot to put a cherry on top of my frosty glass of pink lemonade."

"Hummm… I like free milk! I've been on lactose-free diet lately and I'm thirsty for the real thing!" A wicked grin proceeded, "And even I know better than to respond to that cherry reference! I do have some self-restraint."

"Thirsty are you? We've been 'together' for only three hours and you're already reduced to begging?? Your self-restraint needs work!" Chuckling, Sydney added, "And, it's too late to pretend to be a gentleman! I fell in love with the honest-to-God Munchkin of Charm City. I obviously enjoy low-brow comedy."

"Beg?? When did I beg?" he retorted, "A few random whimpers and a stray moan of longing does not begging make. And my comedy isn't low-brow. I just tailor it to suit my audience."

"Excuse me for my gaff. I forgot that you are well known for your sophisticated wit… a legend in two cities," she smirked. "I've heard that some perps only committed their crimes so they could spend a few hours of quality time with you in the Box. You should do stand-up!"

"We've only been 'together' for three hours and you're already ragging on my ass?" Tilting his head to leer at her over the top of his glasses, John complained, "I thought you were going to support me… let me share my feeling and nurture my tortured soul, but you're already riding me!"

"Not any time soon if you keep up this attitude!" she shot back, giggling at her double entendre. "And if the next words out of your mouth are, 'I am not Montel Williams!' it could be even longer before you saddle-up!"

Stunned for a moment, John finally demanded, "'I am not Montel Williams'? Where could you possibly have heard that story?"

"Like I said… you're a legend!" she teased.

"Come on… give!"

"Was that a whimper or a moan? I don't want to get confused again and accuse you of begging," she laughed against his chest, her arms tightening around his waist. "I've missed you… this!"

Returning the hug, he smiled against her hair. "So have I, baby. So have I. But I still want to know who blabbed."

-----

Ed Green motioned for his partner to join him in an alcove of the lobby of the Morse-Jefferson Building. "Paul Zalewski was killed the Sunday morning after the incident with the elevators. He was mugged in the parking lot behind this building… knifed from behind, his wallet and watch stolen. A couple of kids were collared nearby with the stolen goods in their possession, so we never got called in to investigate. The suspects are at Rikers awaiting trial."

"Damn. I read about that but didn't remember his name! It caused quite an uproar… a lot of talk about campus security. It can't be a coincident that he died the next morning," Joe Fontana proclaimed. "Is there any record of the complaint filed by Dr. Riley in his files or at the campus security office?"

"None. Zalewski must have died before he could file it. There is no record of it here or at the main office," Green confirmed.

"Any word yet on the second guard?"

"Not yet, but Morgenthal and Rodriguez are on their way to his apartment in the Bronx. Lieu wants the mugging looked at again once we wrap up here to see if it's part of this case," was Green's reply. "Talbert and Kwan are trying to track down Perkins; he called in sick over the weekend and is a no show today." (A/N --- Lieu is Lt. van Buren, short for Lieutenant.)

"He is starting to look very good for this. We got a picture of him to circulate?" Fontana asked.

"Yeah. Personnel gave Benson his work ID photo. She asked for copies… emailed the pic to Sally and it went citywide from there. We will have our copies in a few," Green reported.

"Great, we need to show it to Dr. Riley as soon as they get her out for confirmation he was the one she saw that night," Fontana observed. "How far back does Hudson keep their security tapes? We might find something on them for her to ID."

"We got lucky there. They keep tapes for a month, so Cragen collected all they have from in and around this building. He's already sent them to TARU. They're using photo detection software to look for Perkins… see who he was with," Green noted. "We should have some tape for her to review this afternoon if she's able."

"It occurs to me… if Zalewski was killed to keep him quiet, they may have been looking for her too. We need to have the techs review the tapes for last week to see if they came back… or if Perkins seemed to be hovering in the vicinity of the 16th floor," Fontana proposed. "She may be alive because she went out of town before they could identify her."

"Strong possibility you're right about that. I'll get them to add it to the list and see what they can find," Greed agreed. "Dr. Riley said she wasn't wearing her ID badge… it was in her bag, so they didn't get her name that way. I need to ask her if Zalewski called her by name when he arrived. If he was retired NYPD, he would have known better than to identify her in a situation like that."

Nodding, Fontana offered, "The more we consider it, I'm liking the idea that they haven't been able to ID her yet. Good for us and her.

Changing topics, Fontana began, "I just spoke to Logan. We may have a line on how the perps got their explosives in place at the mid-rise in Midtown. The manager of the company that handles the leases for the owners, a man named Al Jackson, remembered something from a month ago."

"Yeah? What?" Green demanded.

"He fired a guy from his maintenance crew after they got complaints about the elevators being off-line one night. The worker… guy named Felix Montoya, claimed he must have accidentally flipped off the power to the elevator bank while performing a routine maintenance job late the night before and forgot to turn it back on when he left," Fontana provided. "Jackson thought he was just careless and fired him. Logan sent Torres and Smith to bring Montoya in for questioning."

"That falls in line with the report from Dr. Riley about the elevators being off line for a night in this building. We need to get her with the sketch artist as soon as possible, then looking at tape. I have no idea how to find a starting place for getting her looking at mug shots," Green complained. "Not like we have any priors with this type of MO to lead us to these guys."

"Goren and Eames are looking for anything similar at the building in the Financial District… Miller and Dollan are doing the same at the scene in the Soho. Wheeler is coordinating with the FBI, looking for anything that might be a fit, but from…" Joe began, breaking off to answer his cell phone. "Fontana."

"Damn, Lieu! When did they start arriving?" he exclaimed.

"OK. Keep us posted. We're still trying to track down the three men Sydney Riley encountered that night. Only one of them… Bob Perkins checks out as an employee. The Maintenance Dept. supervisor says he doesn't have anyone that fits her descriptions of the other two on any of his crews. The second security guard… Roger Sloane, is still unaccounted for," Fontana concluded.

"What?" Green wanted to know.

Slipping his cell back into his pocket, Fontana held his partner's gaze. "Threats are starting to come in to management companies, institutions, and government offices in the Greater New York area demanding huge payoffs. They claim there are bombs planted in elevator shafts all over the City that they will detonate over the next 48 hours if the payments aren't deposited to an off-shore account. If this gets out, we'll have panic citywide."

"With good reason," his partner observed, looking over at the line of body bags the EMT's had placed along one wall of the lobby. "They detonated these bombs to get maximum kill… the ten elevators were running nearly full since it was between classes. The lower floors are all classrooms and study areas. We have 22 confirmed fatalities here alone and FDNY is still pulling bodies out."

Grim-faced, Fontana proposed, "I think we need to get Sydney Riley into protective custody as soon as they get them out of the elevator. Until we know more, she's our only witness that can identify the men that may have planted the bombs in this building. We both know Zalewski's murder was more than a simple mugging. They were eliminating a possible witness. She could be next."

Looking back at his partner, Green agreed. "Yeah. Let's talk to Lieu. Maybe Cragen and his people can handle it since she knows Munch already."

-----

"Hi Cap. What's up? Please tell me they will be getting us out of here soon. It's hotter than hell down here," John complained into his cell.

"Good. I'll tell Syd."

"What?"

Feeling her eyes on him, John gave her a hug for reassurance as he listened to Cragen's update. "Damn! Can't say the last part is a surprise though. The rest… I'm staying with her, so don't…"

"Thanks. I appreciate this. I'll tell her what's up."

"Tell me what, John?" Sydney whispered, as he pocketed the cell phone.

Bending to press a lingering kiss to her lips, John soothed, "FDNY is ready to send someone down to attach the cable to our car. They hope to have us out within the next few minutes."

Shivering, she asked, "Is there more? Do they think there will be a problem attaching…"

"They have already inspected the roof of our elevator and don't think there will be any problems, so breath," he instructed. "We'll be fine."

"But… there is more isn't there?"

Sighing, John filled her in on the latest developments, omitting for now the news about the murdered security guard. He decided to wait until they were out before sharing that information. He didn't want to add to her anxiety while they waited to be rescued… getting out of a damaged elevator six stories up would be nerve-racking enough. "Don said he wouldn't fight me on staying with you, so no need to worry. This is just a precaution until we know more, OK?"

Troubled hazel eyes held his for a moment before she slowly nodded. "If you're going with me, I'll be fine."

"Baby, now that I have you in my arms, it would take the entire NYPD to keep me from being with you," he promised. "I'm here and I'll take care of you, Syd."

A faint grin curved her lips in response to his comment. "For such a chauvinist, you're still kind of cute."

"I do try."

-----

A/N --- The reference to "I am not Montel Williams!" comes from the first episode of _Homicide: Life on the Street_. If you haven't seen it, go rent the DVD. That scene is a riot!


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Instant Karma, Chapter 9

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC; Involves the entire Law & Order universe  
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; some adult content  
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Dick Wolf. Munch isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh!  
Summary: A series of random bombings reunites Munch with the woman that has haunted his sleep for years. In the midst of tragedy, can some much needed good karma open the way for true love delayed? JM/OFC

FEEDBACK GREATLY APPRECIATED!

Instant Karma, Chapter 9

Twenty minutes later, the pair watched anxiously as the hatch above the heads was pulled open. The face of a smiling young fireman appeared in the opening. "Hi. I'm Danny. You folks ready to get out of here?"

"I think we can force ourselves," John responded. "How are we doing this?"

"We'll pull you up using harnesses strapped around your chest and shoulders. The piers under you are pretty stable, but I'd prefer not to put any more weight on them if we can avoid it, so it's best if I stay up here and guide you out," he began. "You need to help each other strap them on securely. We will then pull you up one at a time. Det. Munch, we'll probably take you first since you're on the outside."

"She goes first," John insisted. "I'll wait my turn."

"Your turn is first, John," Sydney countered, wanting him safe. "We will have to shift too much for me to go first."

Holding her gaze, Munch observed, "You are pale and trembling already, Syd… have been in pain for hours. I won't leave you down here alone in this condition. Moving you is going to hurt like hell… you could pass out and be alone in that condition."

"What are her injuries, Det?" the fireman asked.

Glancing up, John supplied, "I'm holding her up and off a broken knee, Danny. If I go first, she will be back down on it and I doubt she's up to that pain on her own."

From above their heads, the fireman agreed. "He makes a good point, Dr. Riley. OK, strap yourselves into the harnesses and I'll alert the rest of my crew that we need to ease you both up together so that you can help support her, Det. Munch. Once we get you to the top of the car, we'll take Dr. Riley out first, then pull you up… OK?"

"Fine," John agreed reaching for the harnesses. "If I put one on, can you guys take up enough slack so I only have to support Sydney, not myself? That would make helping her into one a lot easier."

"Can do. Signal me when you're ready."

After several minutes of careful maneuvering, they couple managed to strap on the harnesses. In the process, Sydney had shifted just enough for him to reach behind her and grab her bag. Munch quickly dropped the strap over his shoulder before signaling the fireman they were ready. "Leave that John. It's…"

"It may have prints on it from where that guy grabbed it. It's worth a look," he insisted.

Shaking her head, she smiled weakly, "Yes, detective. Can we go now?"

"Sure can, beautiful. Hold on tight. This is going to hurt like hell, Syd… there's no way to prevent it," he warned, feeling the harness begin to tighten further around his chest and shoulders.

Sydney was unable to stifle her scream of pain as she was lifted off of her broken knee and her leg began to straighten out. John clutched her tightly to his chest as he felt her go limp. "Hang on, sweetheart. I have you."

Looking up, he called, "Danny… she's passed out. I'll need your help getting her through the hatch."

"Understood, Detective. If you can guide her into the opening, my partner and I will help her from up here," he replied.

"Thanks." Pressing a kiss to her pale cheek, he whispered, "Hang on, baby. We're almost out of here."

Dangling just under the hatch, John eased her head and shoulders through the opening trying to protect them from hitting the sides as she slipped through. Her body remained completely limp and it took several minutes for them to guide her out. Watching as she and the second fireman were hoisted quickly upward once she was free, Munch gave a sigh of relief.

"You're next Detective," Danny announced, turning back to him. "You'll need to hand me that bag so it won't hang you up in the opening. Getting your shoulders through will be a tight squeeze, so we need to angle you as much as we can."

"Right," John nodded, pulling the strap back over his head. "Try to handle this as little as possible, OK?"

Seeing the young man nod as he accepted the bag, John shifted his position so that he could go through the hatch angled to the corners. Hearing the elevator groan alarmingly as he wiggled trying to clear his shoulders, he held his breath as the harness tightened a little more and pulled him free. Within seconds he was reaching for Cragen and Tutuola's hands as they pulled him to the safety of the sixth floor lobby. His eyes immediately sought and found Sydney, lying on a stretcher on the opposite side of the lobby.

"Thanks Danny…guys."

"Damn, man. You had us scared," Fin greeted him. "And why the hell did you bother bringing that bag?"

"Evidence, Detective. It's Syd's. She was carrying it the night she had her run-in with the suspects. Its leather, so it may have prints from the one that tried to pull if out of her hands," he concluded, accepting Olivia's hug with an exhausted smile.

"Good thinking, John. I'll see it gets processed," Cragen promised, relieved to see his friend out of immediate danger. "We're your security detail to the hospital. We'll take you out through the service bay at the back of the building. An ambulance is pulled up out of the line of sight of the crowds surrounding the building. Fin is riding with you two. Liv and I will follow in my car."

Nodding, John rolled to his feet, only to collapse with a grunt of pain as his ankle refused to carry his weight. Swearing under his breath, he tried again before letting Fin support him long enough to make it to the stretcher where Sydney had been placed. "How is she?" he demanded, reaching out to take her hand.

"She's coming around. How she remained conscious kneeling on this knee for four and a half hours is beyond me. I'm betting her kneecap shattered when she came down in it," the EMT replied. "We've given her something for the pain and will be ready to transport you both once we get her leg stabilized. We'll need to get you on a stretcher too, Det. Munch. I doubt you can walk down seven flights like that. We need to relieve some of that swelling in your ankle ASAP. We also need to strap you down on a back board until we know for sure if your spine was injured in the fall."

"In a minute. I need to be sure she's OK," Munch insisted, squeezing her hand to try and draw her back to consciousness. "We were able to shift her enough so that I could drape her over me and take most of her weight off of her knee, but honestly, I don't know how she did it either. Syd?"

A faint "John?" slipped from her lips, then, "John… John are you OK?"

Leaning over to press a quick kiss to her lips, John gave her hand another squeeze. "I'm fine, Syd. You're safe. They will be taking us to the hospital in just a few minutes, so relax and let them get you ready for transport."

"You're alright? Your ankle…" she began.

"Will be fine. They are making me accept a ride down too, so don't worry about me," he soothed. "We're both safe, Sydney. It will be OK."

"You're sure you're not hurt otherwise?" she demanded, clutching his hand.

"Baby, I'm fine. Hang on and Fin will walk with you," he promised, finally letting an EMT force him back onto a second stretcher.

Looking up at his partner, he asked, "Keep an eye on her for me, OK?"

Nodding, Fin took his partner's place next to her stretcher. "Odafin Tutuola, Dr. Riley. Glad to finally meet you. Heard a lot about you over the years."

Taking his hand, Sydney gave him a tired smile. "Hello, Fin. I'm just Sydney… and I hope you'll give me a chance to redeem your opinion of me."

Tilting his head to gauge her response, he offered, "Munch only had good things to say about you."

Holding his gaze, she murmured, "And his comments are the only thing that formed your opinion of me, detective? No conclusions of your own?"

Studying her for a minute, Fin was relieved to find he liked what he found. "I'm looking forward to getting to know you for myself, Sydney. Now let's get you to the hospital."

"Thanks," she replied, relieved he seemed willing to give her a chance. "Fin, I know John wanted my bag checked for fingerprints. Can I get my wallet and cell phone out of it before it's taken away? I'll need my identification when I'm admitted and I'm sure I have calls on my phone that I need to return. Oh, and my keys… maybe my laptop?"

"I'll take care of it for you," Olivia offered, appearing over Fin's right shoulder. "Hi Sydney. I'm Olivia."

Staring up at the beautiful woman smiling down at her, Sydney felt a flash of jealousy. "Hi. John told me about all of you while we waited."

Having seen Sydney's initial reaction to her, Olivia bent to whisper, "I'm assuming he made it clear we're just friends and co-workers, right?"

A bright blush spread over Sydney's pale features. "Yes… I…"

Patting her shoulder, Olivia murmured, "John is a very good friend, but nothing more. He's told us all about you, so it's great to finally meet you. I don't want there to be any misunderstandings between us that might get in the way of the two of you… OK?"

Still blushing, Sydney found herself smiling genuinely. "Thanks."

"No problem." Grinning at an amused Fin, the female detective pulled the picture of Bob Perkins out of her pocket and showed it to the injured woman. "I need to see if you can ID this man."

After studying the picture for a few seconds, Sydney nodded. "It's the maintenance worker I saw that night… Bob something, I think."

Trading a look with Cragen and Tutuola, Olivia smiled. "Thanks. That helps. This is Captain Don Cragen, by the way."

"Captain."

"Glad to finally meet you, Dr. Riley. We'll talk later, but it's time for you to get going," he instructed. "Liv and I will take care of your personal items. I'll remove them all before sending your bag to the lab."

"Thanks and call me Sydney."

Stepping to one side, they watched as the EMT's lifted her stretcher and quickly disappeared into the stairwell with Fin in tow. Catching John's questioning look, Olivia offered, "Very pretty lady. She ID'ed Perkins."

"Beautiful lady. What were you two whispering about?" he demanded, his suspicious nature getting the better of him.

"Just wanted to be sure there weren't any doubts in her mind about us," she explained, giving him a teasing grin. "I don't think she wants to share you with me. You've been claimed, my friend."

"Ignoring the amazing fantasy the thought of being 'shared' by the two of you conjures," John began, pausing briefly to grin at the chuckling EMT's carrying his stretcher, "I sure hope you're right about that."

"Trust me… I am. Now, be a good Munchkin and let them get you to the ambulance. I need to call Ed Green and update him on her ID of Perkins."

-----


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Instant Karma, Chapter 10

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC; Involves the entire Law & Order universe  
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; some adult content  
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Dick Wolf. Munch isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh!  
Summary: A series of random bombings reunites Munch with the woman that has haunted his sleep for years. In the midst of tragedy, can some much needed good karma open the way for true love delayed? JM/OFC

A/N --- I would really appreciate hearing from anyone reading this. Feedback is greatly appreciated!!

Instant Karma, Chapter 10

Elliot Stabler met the ambulance as it pulled up to the emergency entrance to Hudson University Hospital. Blocking the door, he nodded to Munch and Fin. "Hold up a second fellas. Cap wanted me to check the waiting areas to make sure the suspects weren't here looking for Dr. Riley. I took pictures of a couple of guys that seemed to fit the general description."

Smiling at the woman lying on the stretcher, he asked, "Can you look at them before they take you inside, Dr. Riley? It would help us assure your safety."

Clinching John's hand, Sydney nodded. "Of course. Do you really think they would go to that much effort to find me?"

"Standard procedure for a protective detail, Dr. Riley. It's doubtful they would, but we don't want to overlook anything at this point. They killed a lot of people this morning, so they may not want to risk having someone that could ID them talking to us," Elliot replied, a friendly smile taking the edge off of his comments. "I'm Elliot Stabler by the way."

Accepting the cell phone he was extending towards her, Sydney forced a smile to her face in greeting. "Hi Elliot. John's 'home team' seems to be everywhere!"

John chuckled in response to her comment, relieved she was still able to joke. "I told you I was their hero!"

"What kind of garbage has Munch been telling you, Syd. We need to talk so I can set the record straight!" Fin interjected, leaning over John's shoulder to study the pictures on the cell phone's small screen.

"I have not… Syd, what's wrong?" John demanded. "Do you recognize someone?"

Nodding, she continued to stare at the fourth picture in the set Stabler had given her. "I may be wrong… the picture is grainy, but he looks like the guy that grabbed me."

"Number 4?" Elliot questioned, a hard edge settling on his handsome features.

"Yes. How did you know?" she asked.

"The way he was acting… and he looks just like your description." Turning as Olivia and Cragen arrived, he updated the pair. "Dr. Riley thinks I may have photographed one of our suspects during my security sweep. He sent up flares for me when I saw him. What do you want to do, Cap?"

"Have you looked at all the pictures, Sydney?" Cragen asked.

Shaking her head, she began to flip through the rest of the pictures, "No, I got hung up on that one."

After a minute, she offered, "He's the only one that looks like one of the men I saw that night, Captain. The picture is grainy, but… it looks like the bodybuilder. He's the one that grabbed my arm, so I focused on him the most."

"OK, the four of us are going to try to talk to him, maybe get a clearer picture for you to ID. John, look after Sydney." Looking over at the EMT's, Cragen ordered, "Move the bus out several blocks and circle until you get a call from me. I want to rule this guy out or have him in custody before you take her into the ER. Fortunately, her injuries aren't life-threatening, so make her as comfortable as you can while we handle this."

Smiling at the white-faced woman, he soothed, "Sydney, relax. John will take good care of you. You spent the morning in very close proximity to him, so I'm sure you saw his gun at some point. Let him protect you. It may be nothing, but we're not taking a chance, OK?"

"Be careful," she whispered, still holding John's hand in a death-grip.

-----

"He's still where I saw him… leaning against the wall in the corridor outside the ER," Elliot reported, coming back to join the others. "Not many people in the area, so hopefully, we can take him without incident."

Yanking off his ID and badge, Fin stuffed them into his pocket as he proposed, "Give me something to wrap around my hand… hide my gun. I'll play wounded and try to get on the other side of him so he can't run."

Copying his actions, Olivia added, "I'll go with Fin… act like I'm helping him. Give us time to get into place."

Seeing another ambulance pull up, Stabler jogged over to the back. Once the paramedics had gotten their patient out, he announced, "NYPD. I need to borrow a couple of towels."

"Help yourself," a female EMT called over her shoulder.

Grabbing up the requested items, Elliot returned to his partners. "Here, man; wrap your hand up in these. Liv, stay close and use them to cover up your gun too."

Nodding, the pair quickly got into position. Wrapping an arm around his waist like she was supporting him, Olivia slipped her gun under the cover of the two towels. Fin dropped his head to rest against hers and seemed to slump against her to simulate a wounded man. "Guns hidden?"

"Yeah. Go and be careful," Cragen ordered. "We'll give you a couple of minutes to get into place. Elliot and I will approach him from the front, our badges visible, and identify ourselves as police. We only want to talk to him… send Sydney a better picture before we take any action. He may be innocent, so no guns if we can avoid them. If he shows any signs of pulling a weapon though, take him down. We need to make sure he doesn't take a hostage or hurt any civilians. Are we clear?"

-----

Leaning against Olivia as they slowly made their way along the corridor, Fin whispered, "I'm getting a bad vibe off his guy. You feel it?"

"Yeah, I do," she murmured back, watching their suspect from under the fringe of her bangs. "He looks just like Sydney's description. I see why Elliot marked him."

"Head for that alcove outside the restrooms. That'll give us a good view of him and still lets us respond to any threat quickly," he proposed.

"Right. I… Damn! He's moving! I think something spooked him," Olivia muttered, tensing in preparation for making a move to apprehend the man.

"Naw… he's trying to get a better look into the treatment area to see the woman they just brought in. He's looking for someone, that's for damn sure," Fin observed. "Heads up… here comes Don and El."

From down the hall, they heard Cragen's voice. "NYPD. We'd like to speak with you."

Without looking at the two policemen, their quarry turned and ran. Unfortunately for him, his escape attempt took him directly toward Fin and Olivia's position. Seeing his actions, the two detectives stepped into his path, pulling their weapons. "Police! Stop and put your hands up!" Olivia instructed.

Jerking to a halt, the man reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun. Before he could bring it all the way up, a bullet from Elliot's gun slammed into his right shoulder. The impact sent him pitching to the ground, his own gun discharging harmlessly into the base of a nearby wall. Panicked screams echoed through the nearby areas as people ran for cover.

Moving quickly, Fin kicked the gun away from his outstretched hand in Cragen's direction before kneeling on the man's back to pull his arms behind him so that Olivia could cuff them. "What part of 'Police! Stop and put your hands up,' didn't you get, asshole," Fin growled. "You pulled a gun on two cops that ID'ed themselves after running from two more that asked politely to speak with you. Not smart, my man."

"Augh… my arm!" he moaned.

"Well, you're in luck. You had the foresight to get shot in a hospital right outside the ER," Olivia smirked, beginning to pat him down. Finding a second gun and a knife, she added, "You meant business didn't you? Like my partner said… not smart, my man."

"I want a doctor," he demanded. "And a lawyer."

"NYPD!" Cragen called, holding up his badge as several armed security guards rushed into the area. "A suspect pulled a gun and Det. Stabler took him down before he could aim his weapon. He fired once and his round hit near the base of that wall."

"What's going on here, Captain?" the first guard demanded.

"I'm Captain Don Cragen, SVU. This man is a suspect in an assault case we're working. We wanted to talk to him and he ran… pulled his gun. Det. Stabler shot him in the right shoulder to prevent him shooting our fellow officers," Cragen neatly summarized. "We're placing him under arrest and Detectives Benson and Stabler will remain with him until we can transfer him to lock-up. Detective Tutuola, read the man his rights."

-----

"Hi Cap. What's the word?"

Squeezing Sydney's hand, John gave her a reassuring smile as he listened to his commander's update. "What do you want us to do?"

"Got it. Do we need to stop back by for one of you?"

"OK. Let me know what you find out."

Breaking off the call, John looked over at the paramedics driving their ambulance. "We're being diverted to Mount Sinai. Det. Tutuola is on his way there now and will meet us at the ER entrance after he has swept the area for anyone suspicious."

"John… what happened?" Sydney whispered, her face pitched with pain and worry.

Shifting as much as she could, he held her gaze with a reassuring smile. "The suspect tried to flee when they approached him… pulled a gun on Fin and Liv. Elliot shot him in the shoulder before he could hurt anyone. Everyone is fine and they have him in custody. We're going to Mt. Sinai as a precaution. Bellevue it the other hospital the NYPD uses most of the time, so Don's hoping we can slip in without being seen. Hopefully, he will talk and we can wrap this up quickly."

"But…"

"Relax, Syd," he soothed. "I'll be with you all the way, so it'll be ok."

-----

"Mike… Don. We have one of our suspects in custody," Cragen began. "Stabler spotted someone fitting the description of the first suspect waiting outside the ER when we arrived with Dr. Riley. We approached and he fled… pulled a gun on two of my detectives. Elliot shot him in the shoulder, but it's not life-threatening."

"He demanded a lawyer as we were cuffing him."

"OK. I'll call McCoy since he's riding this one for the DA. Benson and Stabler will sit on our perp until we can get him transferred to Bellevue's prison ward."

"Dr. Riley and Munch have been- rerouted to Mt. Sinai. Tutuola is on his way there with a couple of uniforms. I didn't want to take a chance of his partner figuring we had her there," Cragen explained. "We'll need to move her ASAP to a safe house once she has received treatment."

"If her kneecap is broken like the paramedics think, it will require surgery to set… put in pins to rebuild it. Late today or tomorrow is probably the earliest we can move her, but who knows at this point."

"Munch is staying with her. He's ankle is either sprained or broken, but he can sit with her and keep her company. They know each other and she will do better having a familiar face with her."

"OK… I'm heading to Mount Sinai to see how they are doing. Can you arrange for a sketch artist to meet me there? I'd like to see if we can get a sketch of the other suspect before she goes into surgery."

"Thanks. I'll see you at One PP at 4."

-----


	11. Chapter 11

Title: Instant Karma, Chapter 11

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC; Involves the entire Law & Order universe  
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; some adult content  
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Dick Wolf. Munch isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh!  
Summary: A series of random bombings reunites Munch with the woman that has haunted his sleep for years. In the midst of tragedy, can some much needed good karma open the way for true love delayed? JM/OFC

A/N --- I really would appreciate hearing from you! A little feedback would be great! Thanks for reading!

-----

Instant Karma, Chapter 11

"I want to hear what you have… both what you know and what you simply suspect," Arthur Branch instructed, joining a meeting of the NYPD task force investigating the bombings.

His Executive Assistant District Attorney, John "Jack" McCoy, rose from the conference table to shake his boss's hand. "I think you know the members of the task force, Arthur."

"Yes, I've had the pleasure," Branch acknowledged. "I want to congratulate you on the progress you've made today, but we have a long way to go before this tragedy is under control. Have we gotten anything out of the man arrested at the hospital? Hell, so we even have his name?"

"Yes sir, we do. He's Tobias Glazer. Dr. Riley picked him out of a photo array, confirming he was the man that accosted her. We're holding him on assault, attempted murder, and reckless endangerment for the incident at the hospital for now. The assault charges for the attack on Dr. Riley are being withheld for now to keep her name out of the record," Don Cragen reported. "We'll amend once we can find proof of his involvement in the bombings."

"I'll have him arraigned in the morning on those charges," McCoy inserted. "That's more than enough to get remand and to keep him off the street. What more to do we know about him, Don?"

Nodding, Cragen went back to his notes. "Glazer is 43… from Brooklyn originally, but his last known address was in Norfolk, Va. He served 18 years in the Navy… a Seal, but was dishonorably discharged three years ago for conduct unbecoming. We're still trying to get his records to get the details, but the Navy is putting us through hoops."

"Do we need to put some pressure on them to get us those records ASAP?" McCoy demanded.

"Yes, we do. We'll get them eventually, but we need them fast," Cragen confirmed. "We'd like to talk to anyone that knew him and see it they can link him to our other suspect."

"I'll make some calls," Branch stated, making notes. "You don't have any leads on a current address?"

"We haven't had any luck so far beyond the fact he uses a PO Box in Queens," Logan offered, handing McCoy the report. "We're moved him under heavy guard to Bellevue's prison ward an hour ago. He's isolated with an around-the-clock guard. He demanded a lawyer as he was cuffed at HUH and isn't talking. The doctors sedated him after he patched up his arm so we could transport him, so he hasn't talked to his lawyer either."

"When he's awake, I want to talk with him and his attorney," Jack McCoy added. "Arthur, we may have to offer to take the death penalty off the table in exchange for him giving up his accomplice and the location of any other bombs. Until we have him and can account for the other bombs, the lives of an unknown number of people are in jeopardy. Those ransom demands don't give us much time."

"We make him an offer as a last resort," Branch replied. "I want this guy to stand trial for capital murder. What do we have that might tell us where the other bombs have been placed?"

"We're trying to establish a pattern from this morning's attack. We have four buildings spread over the lower half of Manhattan. The one at Hudson is a mix of academic and office space. The one in Midtown is retail and office… the one in SoHo retail and residential… and the one in the Financial District has a bank on the lower floors and brokerages and related firms above," Logan began.

"So, we have a mix of residential, office, retail, service, financial, and academic," he summarized. "That covers most of the types of buildings in Manhattan and may have been chosen to make the point that any building is fair game."

"They are all mid-rise buildings… none over twenty-five floors, but they all had at least ten elevators in a central bank. The perps may have chosen them because their security wasn't upgraded as much as it would have been at high-rise buildings after 9/11," Eames proposed. "Ten elevators meant a lot of bodies. It may also make finding any other explosives more difficult."

"The spread and timing of the explosions was designed to snarl the response… far enough apart to divide our efforts, but close enough to overlap service areas. It was also timed to maximize the number of people likely to be using the elevators in each particular building and assure the highest body count," Goren offered. "Preliminary reports on the bombs indicate they were triggered by a remote device rather than by a timer. CSU found a relay at the building in SoHo. They think all of the bombs were identical from what they've found so far. That means the doers were nearby and triggered them personally."

"The bombs at Hudson were the last to detonate and went off 21 minutes after the one in the Financial District. All the others were precisely 15 minutes apart," Fontana added. "It's possible one of our perps saw Dr. Riley entering the building and waited long enough for her to enter a car… let it get far enough up to guarantee a kill when it fell. That explains why he would have been waiting at the hospital… waiting to make sure he got her in the blast."

"Makes sense," McCoy agreed. "If that's the case, we may be able to find him on the security tapes of the area in and around the building."

"We have the tapes and they are being reviewed using photo match software. TARU has both Glazer's and Perkins' pictures for the search," Cragen offered. "Pictures of Glazer went out to all precincts and to the FBI within an hour of his arrest."

"What else?" Branch pressed.

-----

A faint groan drew the attention of the nurse. Moving to the side of his patent's bed, the recovery room supervisor began to take the groggy woman's vital signs. "Dr. Riley?"

"Humm…"

"Are you in any pain?" he asked, lifting her wrist to take her pulse.

"Pain? Where am…?"

"You're in the recovery room at Mount Sinai," the nurse soothed. "You were injured… your knee broken. You'll be fine. Relax and I'll let the doctor know you're awake."

"John… is John OK?"

A new voice joined their discussion. "Det. Munch is resting comfortably. He'll be fine. Tell me how you feel."

Focusing on the doctor, Sydney frowned as she struggled to push aside the lingering affects of the anesthesia they had given her for the surgery. "I… knee… my back hurts. John is OK?"

"John will be fine," the doctor repeated. "Let's see what we can do to ease the pain."

-----

"We've been able to confirm each building had their elevators taken off line one night for maintenance, maintenance that wasn't approved by their management companies. So far we haven't been able to find anyone who was actually involved in that work to tell us what happened," Det. Megan Wheeler, Logan's new partner at the Major Case Squad reported.

"How is that possible?" McCoy demanded.

"It appears the work was 'approved' by a maintenance employee at the building not the main office or was dismissed as a screw-up where the entire system was 'accidentally' taken off line," van Buren inserted. "We're still looking for the workers involved."

"So far all the workers we've ID'ed are either MIA or dead. We have nine unrelated murders or apparent natural deaths that may, in fact, be related to the attacks… possible witness or accomplice elimination. The ME's office is rechecking a suicide and a couple of drug overdoses… a fatality from a car wreck, to see if they missed something the first time," Green summarized.

Fontana frowned as he reported, "Among the dead are both Hudson security guards and the maintenance worker Dr. Riley encountered that Saturday night. The second guard and his wife were found murdered in their apartment by the officers dispatched there this morning. Perkins was killed in a car wreck on the BQE Sunday night; the details are being reviewed."

Cragen added, "Ballistics has Glazer's gun and is trying to match it to bullets recovered in two of those killings. If we can link the gun to any of those murders, I'll get the word to you ASAP, Jack. You'll want that information before you talk to Glazer."

"Thanks, Don. See if they can put a rush on it," McCoy requested. "That gives us another clear link to the bombings. I want to have the death penalty on the table from the first moment I set foot in his hospital room."

"We are also looking to see if we can find any other deaths of maintenance workers or security personal that might give us a clue of other buildings the perps have targeted, but our resources are pretty stretched," Capt. Danny Ross, the new head of the Major Case Squad, inserted. "Now that we know where to look, we're hoping it might give us some idea of where the bombs threatened in the extortion messages may have been placed."

"I'll get you as many people as you need. All boroughs are on alert and will add their personnel to our effort," Phil Samuels, the Chief of Detectives promised, making notes. "What is the final body count?"

-----

"Det. Benson. Det. Tutuola… Dr. Riley is resting down the hall in the post-surgical recovery unit. Her surgery was fairly routine… her kneecap broke cleanly in two places," the orthopedic surgeon reported. "Fortunately, that meant there weren't a lot of fragments to evacuate from the wound. We'll take both Dr. Riley and Det. Munch up to their rooms in around an hour."

"Sydney… she's OK?"

Looking through the open door of the recovery room where the two detectives had been waiting, Dr. Janek was mildly surprised to find his other patient still awake. He had ordered a course of strong muscle relaxers and pain medications for the injured policeman. "Det. Munch… how are you doing? You should be sleeping. Do I need to have the nurses give you another round of meds?"

Groggily shaking his head, John repeated, "Not until I see her. Sydney is OK?"

Moving to the bedside, Janek met his patient's worried gaze. "She should be fine. She woke from the surgery without any problems and is resting until I'm ready to have her taken to her room."

"We're sharing a room," John insisted, the effects of the medications taking the edge off of his resolve to have his way. "She's in danger. Need to help watch her… keep her safe."

Seeing the doctor begin to argue, Fin inserted, "Might as well make this easy on all of us, Doc. If you put them in separate rooms, we'll spend most of our time keeping him in his bed. I know my partner too well not to know he'll ignore all of us and crawl to her room if you try to keep them apart."

"You have no idea how stubborn he can be," an amused Olivia added. "I doubt it will do his ankle much good to have him dragging himself down the hall every time we turn our backs."

A faint grin preceded a nod of agreement from the doctor. "Very well. I'll give orders for you two to be taken to the same room. I'll have an orderly take you up shortly. Dr. Riley will join you in an hour or so. Will that satisfy you, Detective?"

Fin and Olivia began to laugh outright at the question. A chuckling Fin urged, "Don't ask him that!! He'll demand you put her in his bed if you give him the choice! Relax, bro, and be glad she'll be in the same room so you can keep an eye on her. Anything more will have to wait until you two heal… and the rest of us are far away!!! Some things I don't need to be part of!"

A smug grin was John's only reply to Fin's comment. Once the doctor had left to change his orders regarding their rooms, the grin faded. "What's the latest on the investigation?"

-----

"Citywide… 98 dead and 61 injured… several are critical, so the number of fatalities may increase. The count at Hudson was the highest. The bombs went off seven minutes before the next block of classes were scheduled to start and the elevators were packed with students and faculty… 41 dead and 23 wounded," Anita van Buren replied. "That number does not include the murders that seem linked to our suspects. That could add a couple dozen bodies to the count… maybe more if we can find deaths that fit the pattern for the other buildings."

"And lets not forget we could have a repeat of today's attacks if we don't find these bastards quickly," Branch declared. "That body count could skyrocket if more bombs are detonated."

"Is Dr. Riley out of surgery yet?" Jack McCoy asked. "We need to get her looking at video as soon a possible so she can ID the other man."

"She's in recovery and should be in her room within the hour," Cragen reported. "Two of my detectives and two uniforms are guarding her until we get them moved to a safe house. Det. Munch is there too, but he's on medical leave… broken ankle from the fall. I'm headed there next with the first prints of possible suspects TARU has identified. She sat with the sketch artist before going into surgery, so the composite went out citywide three hours ago."

"Tough lady," McCoy observed.

"And observant," he added. "She gave us a lot of detail. Munch knows her and says she's very reliable. Our collar of the first suspect at HUH confirms how accurate her descriptions are. Stabler says he spotted the guy within seconds from her report."

"She and Munch have a history?"

"They knew each other in Baltimore. He was the lead detective investigating the murder of a friend of hers seven… eight years ago," was the careful reply. "He's asked to stay with her and I've given my ok."

"Is the relationship personal?" Branch questioned. "I don't want to see her hurt and our case jeopardized because personal feeling got in the way of sound decisions for her safety."

"Yeah, it's personal, but… His company may help her deal with being in protective custody. A familiar face usually helps," Cragen offered. "John Munch is one of the best cops I've ever known. I'm not worried about his ability to protect her, but I'll keep an eye on the situation. If a problem develops, I'll pull him out. With his injury, it's a good use of him to help with her security."

----

"Damn! I knew Syd and I were lucky, but… Damn!"

"Yeah, you were," Olivia agreed, moving from her perch on the side of his recovery room bed to allow the orderlies to get him ready to move to a regular room.

Grimacing as his back began to spasm as he was moved onto the gurney, John bit out, "You two will stay with Syd until they bring her up, right?"

"Stick to her like glue, bro," Fin promised, stepping out into the hallway as his friend was wheeled away. In a low voice, he added, "And, we all were lucky today. Miracle you and Syd are here, not the morgue. Way too close for my comfort."

"Much too close," Olivia agreed, following him to Sydney's room. Pausing at the door, she offered, "I'm raiding the staff break room again for a refill on coffee. Want me to top yours off while…"

-----

A policewoman slipped into the room and handed Ed Green a report. "Thanks."

Quickly scanning the document, he announced, "Lab lifted several prints from Dr. Riley's bag. The second suspect grabbed it when they accosted her, so Munch brought it up with them. Unfortunately, she left for a trip to California the following Monday and took the bag with her, so it got handled by a lot of folks. We got hits on 9 prints that were in the system, as well as, 14 unknowns. They sent over the pictures of those in the system."

"Military personnel are in the system. Any of them serve in the Navy?" van Buren asked. "That may give us a link to Glazer."

Flipping through the report, Green nodded. "Yeah, they checked military databases, not just IAFIS. They got hits for two with Navy records and another one is an ex-Marine."

Pausing to study one of the pictures more closely, Green held it up as he asked, "This guy remind you of Tom Selleck?"

"I can see that," McCoy agreed. "That was part of her description wasn't it? Who is he?"

"Name's Matthew Czajkowski… one of the two Navy prints." Looking up, Green added, "This guy is a demolitions expert… another former SEAL. Like Glazer, he was dishonorably discharged three years ago… also out of Norfolk. No current address available."

"Bingo! Get that picture over to Mount Sinai and see if Dr. Riley can make an ID. If he's our guy, I want that picture citywide ASAP," Samuels ordered. "A demolitions expert with SEAL training would know exactly how to rig the bombs used today. We need their records, Arthur, ASAP."

"And I want to know if he's our man before I sit down with Glazer and his attorney," McCoy added. "If we have his partner's name, it gives us a much stronger position to roll him and get some answers. Finding him and the other bombs are our top priorities."

-----

"Syd?"

"She's sleeping, Det. Munch." Moving to carefully position the sling under her knee, Dr. Janek ordered, "Get some sleep. She'll be fine, but I don't expect her to wake for several more hours. I had them give her some pretty strong meds to ease the discomfort she's experiencing from other sprains and bruising she sustained in the fall… much like those you suffered. Rest is the best medicine for both of you for now."

-----


	12. Chapter 12

Title: Instant Karma, Chapter 12

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC; Involves the entire Law & Order universe  
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; some adult content  
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Dick Wolf. Munch isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh!  
Summary: A series of random bombings reunites Munch with the woman that has haunted his sleep for years. In the midst of tragedy, can some much needed good karma open the way for true love delayed? JM/OFC

Feedback appreciated!!

Instant Karma, Chapter 12

Munch shifted restlessly on the hospital bed in the room he shared with Sydney. He had been adamant that he would not be separated from her… would be a part of her protective detail. Fin and Olivia had added their somewhat amused voices to his demands and the hospital staff had finally relented. The beds were still several feet apart, but he could at least see her.

She had been sleeping since they brought her up from recovery. John refused to do likewise, determined to remain awake until he could speak to her and reassure himself that she had come through the surgery without complications. Their orthopedic surgeon had been encouraging and was already outlining her follow-up physical therapy.

Her kneecap had broken in two paces, but had not completely shattered. This meant that there had not been as many bone fragments to recover from the wound. It also meant the surgeon's job had been greatly simplified as he had only had to wire the main breaks, not rebuild the cap entirely.

Seeing them ease her into her bed, her damaged knee elevated in a sling, had been a tremendous relief. He had been given several medications to ease the many aches battering his body. In his dopey state, he had almost convinced himself that he had been dreaming and she had not really returned to his life. He knew he was being ridiculous, but he had longed for her for so many years, the possibility that he would soon wake up alone again had niggled at the back of his mind until she had arrived. He had spent the last two hours watching the slow rise and fall of her chest as she slept, comforted by the luxury of simply having her near.

Now that he could begin to relax, he was all too aware of aches and pains that had been masked by the adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins since the elevator began its plunge. While he was glad that he had been able to help Sydney and keep her off her knee while they waited to be rescued, supporting her for over four hours had placed a tremendous strain on his back. The throb of the broken bone in his ankle was, in many ways, the easier ache to ignore.

The doctors had warned him that many of his joints and muscles had been jarred or sprained by the fall. Once they had been able to make him sit long enough to set his ankle, muscles and nerve clusters throughout his body had begun to seize and spasm. They had given him strong muscle relaxers and pain medications, but they only dulled the ache. He needed to sleep to escape the pain, but he refused to give into the urge until he had spoken to Sydney.

Fin watched his friend from the relative comfort of a nearby chair. Trading a look with Olivia, he finally insisted, "Go to sleep, John. Liv and I will keep an eye on her. There are three uniforms in the hallway to back us up. You need to rest and recover if you want to help protect her once we leave here."

Glaring over at the amused pair, John grumbled, "I'll sleep once I talk to her and know she's all right."

Rising to walk to his bedside, Olivia tried to adjust his pillows to help him find a more comfortable position so that he could rest. "You heard the doctor, John. She came through the surgery just fine and woke without complications. That's why they brought her up to the room. If there were any complications, she would still be in recovery."

Sighing, he turned back to his study of his roommate. "I know that, Liv, but… I still expect to wake up and find this is all a dream. I need to hear her voice so I know she's really here and that she will be OK."

A groggy voice ordered, "Go to sleep, John. I'm really here and I'll be fine."

John's face lit with a relieved smile. "Syd… how are you feeling?"

Dazed hazel eyes drifted open to meet his. "Probably about as good as you do, love. What did the doctors say? Is your ankle broken?"

Oblivious of the other two detectives, John let himself fall into her gaze. "Yeah. Other than that, I'm fine."

A snort of amusement drew their attention to Fin. "Fess up, partner. You're one skinny mass of bruises and sprains. The only up side is Livvie and I won't have to worry about him trying to sneak into your bed, Syd… for a few days anyway. He can barely move!"

"John! You should have told me…" she began, her now alert eyes scanning him for further information about his condition that he might be withholding.

Smacking Fin on the arm for upsetting her, Olivia soothed, "John is ok, Sydney… considering you guys fell over six stories. You are both going to be sore and aching for a little while. He doesn't have anything worse than the ankle, so you were both very lucky, all things considered."

Still staring into his glazed brown eyes, Sydney whispered, "You're sure you're ok?"

"They gave me a total body MRI and x-rayed my ankles, knees and hips like they did for you, Syd. They didn't find anything worse than sprains and bruises," he offered. "Ignore Fin. I'll be fine. We both start physical therapy tomorrow. I'm already looking forward to the whirlpool."

"Can't they give you one tonight?" she worried.

"I can arrange for a session in the whirlpool following a deep tissue massage."

All eyes turned to find their orthopedic surgeon standing in the doorway. "I'll have a physical therapist take you down in a few minutes, Det. Munch. That might help you sleep and it will also help lesson the stiffness in you joints tomorrow."

"What about Sydney?" Munch asked, already anticipating the relief of the whirlpool on his aching back. He knew from experience a deep tissue message would be uncomfortable at best, but also knew it was necessary and would help him tomorrow.

"I can't risk the incision in her knee getting infected this soon after the operation. I'll have a therapist give her a modified massage here in her bed… apply heat to her joints, but the whirlpool will have to wait I'm afraid," Dr. Janek replied. "So, Dr. Riley, how are you feeling?"

"Lucky to be alive and here with John," she murmured, still studying him for signs of injures he was keeping from her.

Asking the two detectives to step outside, Janek pulled the drape around her bed to give her a thorough examination. Satisfied, he moved to the other side of the curtain and did the same with John. Lifting Munch's chart from the holder at the end of his bed, he tugged the curtain open again.

Jotting down notes on the chart, the doctor offered, "You two are very fortunate to have suffered nothing worse than a couple of broken bones and some sprained muscles and joints. Make no mistake; you will both be in a lot of pain for a while until the treatments start to have some effect, but I'm very optimistic both of you will recovery fully."

"So, you didn't find anything else in the MRI's?" John asked, trading a relieved smile with Sydney.

Fixing him with an assessing look, the doctor summarized, "You have a small area of osteoarthritis in your lower back from a prior injury that will require attention since it was aggravated by today's events, but it shouldn't prove to be debilitating with proper treatment. The scarring from another injury across your lower left buttock is causing your sciatic nerve to become inflamed, but the massage and whirlpool should help that."

Shifting his attention to the injured woman, he noted, "You had a fairly serious injury to your back and both your legs several years ago didn't you, Dr. Riley?"

Unable to hold his gaze, Sydney looked down at her blanket. "I was… injured when I lived in Boston seven years ago, Doctor. My legs and right arm were broken… and I had some spinal damage, as well as, a concussion. My doctor in Boston was James McDonald at BWH, if you need to discuss my injuries with him."

"I know Jim… we were in med school together. I'll give him a call and get a little more information on your prior condition," he agreed. "I don't see any reason to think you won't fully recover from what I saw on the MRI and x-rays… your knee and a small tear to the rotator cup in your right shoulder are the worst of it, but I want to take those injuries into account when I design your therapy. Were you in a car accident?"

Glancing over at John, she whispered, "No, I was attacked… assaulted on my way home from school one night. I was working on my PhD at Harvard and…"

Reaching out to place a soothing hand on her shoulder, Dr. Janek interrupted. "I see. Well, I'll talk with Jim and get the information I need to deal with your treatment. Are either of you in any particular pain?"

"John is, but he won't tell you. He's hurting a lot," Sydney inserted. Trying to dispel the lingering unease discussions of the incident in Boston inspired, she teased, "You know how men hate to look less than macho in front of their girlfriends."

Understanding her motives, Janek smiled as he made several notations on her chart. "I'll get the physical therapists to work immediately then. Once you're settled for the night, we'll give you both muscle relaxers and something for the pain. You should sleep comfortably through the night once they kick in. For the next few days, rest and therapy… and strong meds to take the edge off your discomfort. Any other questions I can answer before I set things in motion?"

"Doctor, I need to ask that you use caution in discussing Sydney's case with your colleague in Boston," Munch insisted, the detective in him speaking for the first time. "She may have had an encounter with the men that are responsible for planting the bombs in the elevators… men disguised as maintenance workers. We have reason to believe they may have been looking for her at Hudson U's ER. That's the reason we diverted here."

"Point taken, Det. Munch," the doctor agreed. "I have spoken with your colleagues and they have apprised me of these circumstances. We will do all we can to protect Dr. Riley's safety."

A knock at the door interrupted anything further John might have offered. Don Cragen's face appeared in the door a second later. "Is it all right for Det. Green and me to come in? We need to talk to Dr. Riley if she's awake. It really can't wait."

"I'm finished here for now, Captain. You and your detectives can all come back inside," Dr. Janek replied, waiting until they were all in the room to continue. "I was just telling them that they were very lucky today. Their injuries will be painful for a while, but I expect both to fully recover."

"That's very good news," Cragen offered, walking over to Sydney's bedside. "How soon before I can get them moved to a safe house?"

"Not for a few days at least, Captain." Holding up his hand to prevent the coming argument, Janek insisted, "They fell six stories and, while there was some bounce in the cable that buffered the impact, they hit the deck hard. Their broken bones aren't their only injuries. They will need intense physical therapy over the next few days, followed by a rigorous course of treatment for several weeks… maybe months if they are to make full recovers."

"I understand that, Dr. Janek, but I'm worried about an attack on her life. Until we are sure we have all the people responsible for these bombing in custody, she may be at risk from them," Cragen argued.

Sighing, Janek nodded. "I understand, but I can't compromise on the next few days. I'll monitor their progress closely and let you move them to a rehab facility… or a house equipped for their care, as soon as possible, but I won't let them go until I get their injuries stabilized."

"Why can't we move them to a rehab center tomorrow…" Cragen began.

Frowning, the orthopedic surgeon became emphatic. "Let me repeat… they fell six stories at a high rate of speed! That means their spines were compressed when they slammed to a stop and were thrown to the deck. Both are suffering from sprains in their backs, legs, hips, and shoulders from trying to hold onto the railing and from the force of the impact. There is swelling at the base of both of their spines."

Fixing the policeman with an unwavering glare, Janek concluded, "While their quick response no doubt kept them from being flung around the elevator sustaining other serious injures, they can't be moved from this hospital until we get that swelling under control. Pinched nerves and possible paralysis are likely if you try to move them too soon. They aren't going anywhere until I clear them, understood?"

"Understood…. But I want at least two officers with Dr. Riley at all times until we get them transferred to a safer location. I'll assign a couple of female officers to her detail so that they can go into treatment rooms and the like." Meeting Janek's glare with one of his own, he insisted, "Are you clear on that?"

John was the only one that had been watching Sydney and quickly realized their argument was causing her to panic. Catching her eyes, he tried to offer reassurance. "It's OK, baby. Your safety is our top priority, so we'll ere on the side of caution, maybe go a little overboard. With all of us watching you, you biggest worry will be not going postal from all the hovering. OK?"

A strained smile was his reward. "Are you sure John's OK?" she pressed the doctor, her anxiety renewed by hearing the doctor's comments.

Patting her shoulder, Janek soothed, "If he follows my instructions and does as he's told, he will be fine."

Her soft, "Damn! John doesn't know how to do either," caused the assembled to chuckle.

Fin nodded. "She said it, not me… not that I'm not agreeing completely!"

Smiling, the doctor left to arrange for their treatments. Ed Green took his place at her bedside. "I won't hover much longer, Sydney, but I need for you to look at these photos and tell me if you recognize anyone."

After studying them for a minute, she pointed to the picture of Matthew Czajkowski. "I think that's the second man from that night… the one I said looks sorta like Tom Selleck. He is a lot longer hair now if that's him. I'm pretty loopy from the pain medications, Ed, so I'm not 100 sure."

Taking the photo line-up card back, he passed it to the other detectives. "Got it. I'll ask you to look at it again when you're not so fuzzy, but this gives me enough for now."

"Can't Zed or Roger ID him?" she asked, her voice low and thick from the meds. "They had more contact with them than I did."

Trading a look with Munch, Cragen was forced to tell her about the murders. Seeing her face loose the last of its color… tears gathering in her expressive eyes, John began to struggle to rise, intent upon going to her and offering comfort. Fin reached over to still his actions. "Hey… you're not supposed to get up! You heard the doctor!"

"I need to…" he began.

"Prove Fin and me right?" Sydney concluded, a watery smile turned in his direction. "I'm fine, John, but I won't be if you hurt yourself by disregarding Dr. Janek's orders. At least I understand why Don is so insistent on moving us as soon as he can."

Slumping back into his pillows, John grumbled, "I was only going to…"

"Hurt yourself," Fin completed. "Be a good Munchkin and I'll see about moving your bed closer to Sydney's while you are in the whirlpool. That way you two can make eyes at each other and hold hands all you want. Damn… I may be sick!"

"You're just jealous!" Munch replied, a small grin directed in Sydney's direction.

Shaking his head at the banter, Ed Green interjected, "Sydney, one last question for now. Do you recall if Zalewski called you by name when he arrived on your floor that night?"

Turning puzzled eyes in his direction, she studied him for a moment before comprehension dawned. "You think they don't know my name."

"Yes. We'd like to keep it that way for now," Green agreed. "Did he call you by name… or could they have seen your University ID?"

Focusing on the night in question, Sydney replied, "I'm sure they didn't see my badge… it was inside my bag in a zipped pocket of my laptop sleeve. And, he didn't say my name until we were on our way down to the lobby. I remember because Zed always makes a point of addressing people by name… to make us feel comfortable with him so we would come to him if there was a problem. He walked a beat for 20 years on the Lower East Side and I always figured that was a habit he acquired on the job. He and Roger are… were good men."

Patting her hand, Ed promised, "We'll do all we can to make sure these bastards are held accountable for all the people they killed. Paul Zalewski was one of our own; we don't forget things like that."

-----


	13. Chapter 13

Title: Instant Karma, Chapter 13

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC; Involves the entire Law & Order universe  
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; some adult content  
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Dick Wolf. Munch isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh!  
Summary: A series of deadly bombings reunites Munch with the woman that has haunted his sleep for years. In the midst of tragedy, can some much needed good karma open the way for true love delayed? JM/OFC

Instant Karma, Chapter 13

"I got here as soon as I could. What's happened…"

Cutting into Cragen's demand for an explanation, Mike Logan handed him a copy of a fax. Scanning its contents, the older cop raised frustrated eyes to meet those of his friend. "So they know we have Glazer. That confirms we have the right guy, but they can't honestly think we'll let him go regardless of the threat to detonate more bombs. We loose him and we loose any hope of catching these bastards."

"Glazer's not going anywhere, Donnie, but we need to find Czajkowski yesterday. Even if we let Glazer go, there'd be no guarantee they wouldn't detonate more bombs like they threatened in their original extortion demands." Pulling several photos from a manila envelope, Logan showed them to his former captain. "Is the woman in these pictures Dr. Riley? We need confirmation and I haven't met her yet."

"Yeah, that's Sydney. These the shots TARU captured from the security tape of the night she encountered the perps?" Cragen asked, studying the shots. "Looks like the assault played out exactly like she described."

"She didn't miss much," Logan agreed. "If Zalewski hadn't come to check on her, they would have killed her that night… staged an accident to cover the murder if they handled her like they did other witnesses. The body count is going up fast. She was extremely lucky… and so were we."

Nodding, Cragen offered, "We would be stuck at square one without her report. So what's the plan?"

"I had to be sure this was her. Between the ID she gave Green and TARU's report ID'ing him using photo recognition software, we feel pretty good he's our man. Samuels and Branch have decided to go public with Czajkowski's photo and hope that makes it impossible for him to move freely… maybe luck out and have someone recognize him," Logan answered.

"Her ID to Green was soft… she was still groggy from the meds they had given her in recovery," Don cautioned.

"I know, but with the Hudson security tape, we tie him to the assault that night and to both Glazer and Perkins. Glazer was ID'ed in a segment of tape just prior to the blast," Mike added, handing Cragen a second set of photos. "That's him next to the back wall… then kneeling next to that backpack. TARU thinks he had the remote inside and used it to trigger the bombs. The tape showing him with Glazer the night they attacked Dr. Riley makes her ID less critical. There's no doubt Czajkowski's out man."

"If we hadn't known who we were looking for, I doubt we'd have spotted Glazer… at least not this quickly. Nothing out of the ordinary about someone in the lobby of an university building looking through a backpack… I see a couple others doing the same thing in this frame alone," Don observed. "Are they possible accomplices?"

"We're checking that out," Mike supplied. "TARU is still slogging through tape from the other buildings. Be nice to know if they used the backpack cover other places too."

"OK… I agree we have our doers, but releasing Czajkowski's picture will give him a chance to alter his appearance and make it harder for us to find him. This could take away the only advantage we have; we know who he is, but he doesn't know that for sure," Cragen speculated.

Sighing, Logan admitted, "Yeah, I pointed out that 'little flaw' in the plan, but… what choice do we have? We need as many people looking for this bastard as possible and we don't have enough bodies to be everywhere at once. Besides, he has to know we'll be able to tie him to his partner sooner rather than later, so I'm betting he's already disguising his appearance. That note is pretty clear. We release Glazer by morning or he detonates another bomb every two hours until we do."

"Have they setup a call center? We're going to get slammed with hundreds of calls, maybe more," Cragen observed. "A tip page on the NYPD webpage might help."

"Already in the works… the page and email link went up several hours ago," Logan reported. "Chief Samuels is using the emergency operations center to house the tip lines and staffing it with as many bodies as we can spare. I'm just glad the calls won't be coming directly to Major Case."

Nodding in agreement… he hated it when they had to setup a call center in the middle of SVU, Cragen picked up the fax and reread the message. Recognizing the look from his days at the 2-7, Mike asked, "You see something in that note that might help us find this bastard? You're burning a hole through the paper staring at it like that."

"There's something more… not in the words themselves, but in the tone," Cragen mused. "This sounds… personal. Most perps would be making plans to get the hell out of town now that they know we have one of their accomplices. Czajkowski seems to be worrying more about getting his partner back. Have we gotten their records yet from the Navy?"

"Branch made some calls and the Navy promised to have the files to us today… but probably not until after 7." Holding Cragen's gaze, Mike asked, "You think 'don't ask, don't tell' got them canned?"

"Maybe… or they have a history that would make Czajkowski willing to risk getting caught to help free Glazer… maybe he saved his life or something. Like I said, this reads as personal," Cragen pondered. "Who's going over the files once we have them?"

"Goren and Eames. Both Skoda and Olivet are out of town at a conference in Miami," Logan replied. "Can your guy… the FBI shrink, take a look at the files and see what he can tell us?"

"I'll give Huang a call."

-----

"_The NYPD has released this picture, saying only that this man is a 'person of interest' in the investigation of the Midtown bombings. His name is Matthew __Czajkowski__. He is described as a 43 year-old Caucasian male, 6'4" in height with a muscular build and weighing approximately 200 lbs. He has black hair and light blue eyes with a dark-tanned complexion. A tattoo of the US Navy Seals insignia is on his right bicep."_

"_The police need to talk with Mr. __Czajkowski__ as soon as possible and they are asking for the public's help in locating him. A tip line has been…"_

-----

John tensed as the two attendants eased him into the heat of the whirlpool, a hiss of pain slipping from his lips as he settled into place with his leg elevated to support his broken ankle. Exhausted from the combination of the events of the day and the pain of his injuries, he let his head sag back against the side of the tub. The throbbing ache in his back was the only thing that kept him from falling sleep immediately.

Sighing, he shifted slightly hoping to reposition one of the jets of the whirlpool so that it pulsed against a spot in his back, midway between his shoulder blades. The deep-tissue massage had hurt more than it soothed, but he knew that was part of the process. Hopefully, the combination of heat, churning water, and the meds he was taking would finally allow him to relax enough to sleep.

"I'll be over at my desk, Det, Munch," one of the two therapists that had been treating him offered. "Dr. Janek wants you to stay in the whirlpool for twenty minutes tonight."

Closing his eyes as the heat began to penetrate his sore muscles, John murmured, "Right… thanks."

Within a few minutes he had drifted into the twilight landscape between sleep and the waking world. A faint smile settled on his lips as the memory of Sydney's face shimmered into view, shining eyes slipping open as they broke apart after their first kiss. He saw again the wonder, the passion… the joy in their sparkling depths. His smile deepened as the memory of a second kiss… then a third, fourth…. replayed before his dazed senses.

Across the room, the second therapist… a graduate student intern earning a little money while adding some practical experience to his resume, watched. "What's up with that you think? Hard to believe he's smiling considering the pain he must be feeling."

His companion, another man, but this one with over twenty years experience under his belt, looked over at their patient. After a moment, he offered, "Must be the meds. Stuff they've given him would tranquilize an elephant."

-----

_Turning to face a man in a ubiquitous dark suit, the anchor of the cable news show continued. "We have been talking with homeland security expert, Gordon McCorry. Gordon, what does the release of this picture so soon after the attacks tell us? Is it reasonable to assume the police feel he is in some way connected to the bombers?"_

"_That's entirely possible, but we don't have enough information to be sure of anything at this point… he may be a witness or someone the police thinks has vital information," McCorry began. "It is surprising that they have taken this action so soon after the attacks."_

"_Does this release change our theories of the crime and those that carried it out?" he asked._

"_It's too soon to say… until we know why the police want to talk to Czajkowski, his role in the bombings is unknown. The original reports assumed that the bombings were carried out by Al Qaeda or another terrorist group, "McCorry responded. "If this line of investigation continues, it may suggest that other groups are behind the attacks… perhaps a completely different motivation was in play than those that have been discussed thus far."_

_Nodding sagely, the reporter pressed, "What was your first reaction to the release of the photograph?"_

"_My first reaction was that the NYPD is worried there will be more attacks and they are enlisting the help of the public in finding the bombers quickly," Gordon proposed. "The NYPD is calling Matthew __Czajkowski__ a 'person of interest', but, as I've already said, it is somewhat unprecedented that they have released a picture this early in an investigation of this magnitude." _

"_Do you feel that releasing the picture is going to help the police find this man?" A shark-like smile preceded, "I've heard more than one person complain that the government has failed to protect the public by preventing these attacks. Is this an attempt to distract the public from demanding answers for this failure?"_

_Frowning, McCorry argued, "If the bombings weren't carried out by a recognized group, it's doubtful the police or any other government agency had any advanced warning of the attack. Until we know who is behind the bombing, it's premature for us to suggest the police or any other government agency could have prevented what happened today."_

"_As for your question about the picture itself," he continued, ignoring the glare his response had elicited, "the police and other law enforcement can only be so many places at any given time. Releasing the picture means over 10 million people in the New York metro area are now looking for Czajkowski. If he is one of the bombers, that will, hopefully, make it difficult for him to move freely without running the risk of being seen. It greatly increases the likelihood he will be found quickly."_

"_And the down side?" he asked, his tone betraying his irritation at McCorry's dismissal of his other question. His show thrived on controversy and his producer was always urging him to ramp it up a few notches in hopes of expanding his ratings lead for their time slot._

"_On the down side, he now knows that the police are looking for him. If he is simply a witness… maybe has some vital information, he will come forward immediately… if for no other reason than to end the manhunt… but if he's involved in the bombings, I expect __Czajkowski__ will attempt to change his appearance to avoid detection," McCorry offered. "On the whole, I doubt the police had much choice since they elected to release the picture this soon. I strongly suspect the police are worried about further attacks; therefore, I suspect it is imperative that they find him quickly."_

-----

"Did it help?"

Looking over into the groggy hazel eyes of his roommate, John hedged, "Some. How about you?"

A trembling hand reached up to push her hair away from her face. "Not much. I think its drugs and more drugs for tonight if either one of us expects to get any sleep."

"Drugs and more drugs… sounds like a party I went to in 1970 just after I graduated from high school," he teased. "It was still going strong when I left… in 1977."

Meeting Olivia's amused gaze, Fin whispered, "Well, that explains a lot!"

-----

"_More attacks?" the anchor exclaimed. "Then the rumors regarding threats of more bombings are true?"_

"_I tend to think they are," McCorry agreed. "My sources are saying that extortion demands have been received by a number of organizations that own or manage buildings around the New York Metro area threatening further attacks if payments aren't made. When I first heard these reports, I assumed someone was trying to profit from the fear and panic gripping the City. Now… they may suggest the bombs were part of a scheme to extort money… greed, not politics may have been the motivation."_

"_Are your sources telling you anything more about these extortion demands?" his host prompted, his earlier irritation forgotten in the wake of this revelation._

"_It's all chatter at this point… too soon to know if it's more," Gordon admitted, "But…if extortion demands have been received, it changes the entire complexion of the investigation. The public needs to be aware of the possibility more bombs could be out there. Finding this man may be the only way to prevent that from happening."_

"_What do we know about him?" he asked, the picture of Matthew __Czajkowski__ replacing the studio shot on the screen. Ratings were all well and good, but he could be in one of those elevators. Finding those responsible suddenly seemed very personal._

"_My contacts inside the NYPD are telling me Matthew __Czajkowski__ is a former Navy Seal. Not a lot is currently known about him, but I'm sure that will change quickly," he admitted, uncomfortable not to know more. Wanting to retain his position as the 'man in the know', he announced, "My sources are also telling me the police have already taken another man into custody on unrelated charges that is a second 'person of interest' to this investigation."_

"_That sounds like they have made a lot of progress in finding those responsible for today's attacks," the buff blond reporter observed, silently praying that was the case. "Are your sources telling you why they have focused their efforts around these two men?"_

"_They are keeping pretty tight-lipped about that," Gordon admitted, "but, I have been told that the police have begun to tie today's attacks to other, seemingly unrelated crimes that occurred over the last six weeks. My sources are also telling me the police are aggressively pursuing the possibility that the bombers killed several potential witnesses… or perhaps, accomplices, that might have seen them planting the bombs used today."_

"_Really?" the anchor responded, clearly excited by having this bit of news broken on his show. "That underscores the need for caution on the part of the public in approaching __Czajkowski__. We can't emphasize that strongly enough. Do not try to apprehend him yourself. If you have information, call the police and let them do their jobs. We don't want to encourage reckless behavior that might endanger more lives, a point stressed in the NYPD news release."_

"_You're entirely correct," McCorry agreed, relieved to be on more comfortable conversational ground. "Let the police and the federal authorities do their jobs, but the public must be vigilant and alert the police if they think they have seen __Czajkowski__… or have any information that might help in their investigation."_

-----

"A cabby called into the tip line… a man fitting the description of Matthew Czajkowski got into his cab near the side entrance to Bellevue's ER a few minutes before we started the canvas of the area," Mike Logan announced, dropping into a chair near the door. "I got a team searching the area within a few minutes of getting Don's call from HUH, but something must have tipped him off before we got there. Cabby dropped him off in the middle of Central Park and the trail goes cold from there."

"So he was watching Bellevue to see if Sydney was taken there," Ed Green concluded. "She's got a bull's-eye on her back until we find him."

"That would be my guess," Mike agreed. "I'd love to know what spooked him."

"Didn't Glazer have a cell phone on him?" Green proposed. "Maybe they were checking in and when Glazer failed to call, he bolted."

Fontana nodded. "Throw-away cell. I requested a report of all activity on Glazer's hoping we could tie it to their movements by cell tower locations. Bunch of calls to one number… another throw-away, but they all went to and from the area around one of the two hospitals. My bet is they each had one and didn't use it for anything but that one 'operation'. These guys covered their bases… Sydney Riley is the only loose end they left behind."

"One they planned to take care of at the hospital… better to do it in the confusion of the immediate aftermath and avoid the risk of her talking or being seen later when things settled down," Bobby Goren observed. "A lot of people knew the elevators were off-line in those buildings at least one night in the weeks prior to the attack, but she's the only one we've found that saw the people involved… other than maintenance workers who are all turning up dead."

"Ed and I were speculating earlier… if one of them saw Dr. Riley entering the building, the bomber may have waited for her elevator to get near the top of the shaft, then timed the detonation so her car was high enough to make a kill likely. Odds of her surviving the fall if the cable had snapped completely are pretty low. Explains why the timing on the detonations at Hudson was outside the pattern of the others… they all occurred at exactly 15 minute intervals," Fontana added. "She was their only loose end, so they hoped to get her in the blast… then covered the entrances to the two hospitals to finish her off if she somehow survived the fall."

"Glazer was obviously trying to get a look at the woman they brought into the ER just ahead of us, so that scenario tracks," Don Cragen agreed. "He wasn't making much effort to hide the fact he was looking… but most people would assume he was looking for a relative and not give it a second thought. Probably felt sorry for him if they noticed him at all."

"All true," Fontana observed. "Is the tip line getting a lot of traffic?"

"Swamped," Goren complained. "van Buren and Ross are supervising the call center. They are culling the most likely tips and giving them priority. A couple of possibles on where Glazer and Czajkowski may have been living… though it's doubtful he'd go home after we released his picture. Wheeler and Eames are leading several teams following up on those leads as we speak."

Sipping his lukewarm coffee, a grimace confirming his didn't taste any better than the tepid brew the rest of the group was drinking, Ed asked, "Anything else turn up while we were out?"

"The team sweeping the area around HUH found Glazer's backpack stashed behind a power transformer in the staff parking lot. A remote and a PDA were still inside… Glazer's prints were all over everything," Mike offered. "O'Halloran says, given its limited range, they would have needed to be either in or very near the target building. He says they probably choose that setup to avoid interference from other signals screwing with theirs."

"That confirms his earlier analysis," Cragen observed. "They found a PDA? Anything useful on it?"

"Haven't heard yet… Glazer encrypted his files. Morales is trying to break it, but it might take a while. He sent the email contacts to computer crimes and they're working on a list of names and addresses so we can get people out there looking for their associates," Logan replied. "We may be able to track his movements using wireless connection sites if he made enough emails using it… should know that within a couple of hours. A list of other buildings they've rigged would be too much to expect, but maybe something that points us in the right direction. Who knows at this point."

-----

_Fixing his guest with a speculative gaze, the show's host offered, "Let's get back to this 'second person of interest' the police apparently have in custody. Does an earlier report that a man was arrested following an altercation near the emergency room of Hudson University Hospital suggest that he is the second individual? That generated a lot of interest immediately after it took place, but the police downplayed its significance. Was that a smokescreen?"_

"_Well, the original report was that the man was wounded when he pulled a gun on SVU detectives investigating an assault case. He was subsequently arrested and taken to the prison wing at Bellevue," Gordon supplied. "It may be possible the two cases are related, but that's entirely speculation at this point." _

"_But HUH was one of two hospitals where those wounded in the attack were taken for treatment," he insisted, repeating the comments his producer was feeding him through his earpiece. "Isn't it a rather large coincidence that this arrest should overlap with the Midtown bombing case? The suspect was shot which indicates… to me at least, they weren't taking any chances he would either escape or hurt someone in the vicinity."_

"_I agree that it would be quite a coincidence if there isn't some connection, but stranger things have been known to happen," McCorry replied. "If he pulled a gun, the police would have moved quickly to subdue him and prevent injuries to innocent bystanders regardless of whether there is a link to the bombing. It's premature to draw any conclusions based on what little we now know about that other situation."_

"_Have you heard anything more from your sources on this man?"_

_Shifting to present his best profile to the camera, McCorry added, "My sources aren't saying anything about that incident… either because it's a SVU case without any broader significance beyond that unit's investigation or because they have clamped the lid down tight on the incident. If it's the latter, I think it's highly likely that man is the second person of interest. It's a situation that clearly needs to be monitored." _

-----

"Damn! Where did they get all of that?" Anita van Buren demanded, turning to face the others grouped around the command desk at the tip line call center in One Police Plaza. "None of that was supposed to be made public... just the picture."

"I can't tell you, but I damned well plan to find out!" Phil Samuels proclaimed. "Until then, we have a new problem. Is it safe to leave SVU in charge of Dr. Riley's protection? That report may give Czajkowski a way of tracking her."

"Detectives Tutuola and Benson are already in place, Chief," van Buren observed. "I suggest we leave them there until we transferred Dr. Riley to a safe house. Changing her detail at this point may call unwanted attention to her location, especially if the press starts looking for them. Changes can be made to their detail if we still have reason to worry when they are relocated."

"With all the crap Darius Parker and his lawyer are feeding the press trying to taint the jury pool before his trial, all of Cragen's people have been getting way too much attention from the press," Danny Ross observed. "Anita is right; it would be best to leave them in place and hope no one saw them going in."

"OK… for now. Give Cragen a call and get him down here," Samuels ordered. "He needs to update his people and make adjustments to keep his unit functioning without them until we can get her transferred somewhere safe."

-----

"OK, Cap. I'll tell Fin," Olivia agreed, before ending the latest call from their CO.

"Tell me what?" Fin demanded. "The picture getting them anything?"

"Calls are flooding the tips lines," she reported. "So far, nothing solid to report… a few likely sightings, but the trail had gone cold by the time we got someone there… a couple of possible addresses for where they have been living are being checked."

"About what you'd expect at this point," he offered. "What has you frowning like that?"

Sighing, she raked her hand through her hair. "Seems we're stuck here until they can move the lovebirds. One of the cable networks picked up on our collaring Glazer at HUH. Samuels is worried Czajkowski will use us to find Sydney, so Cragen wants us to stay in place for now. He thinks it will call less attention to her location if we minimize the traffic through her room."

"Shit," he groaned. "No offense, but I was hoping to do more to find these bastards than be a babysitter."

"None taken… wasn't on my game plan either," she agreed. "You want to grab a few hours sleep? I'm too wired from all the coffee, so I can take first watch."

"Naw… I'm feeling it too," he admitted. Reaching into the duffle bag Stabler had sent over earlier in the evening, Fin pulled out a deck of cards. "Want to play a few hands?"

"Rummy?"

A wicked grin proceeded, "Hell no! How about strip poker? That should stir things up!"

Grinning in response to his teasing, Liv retorted, "Maybe another time. The thought of Munch waking up and catching us in our skivvies is just too disturbing to think about!!!"

-----


	14. Chapter 14

Instant Karma, Chapter 11

Title: Instant Karma, Chapter 14

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC; Involves the entire Law & Order universe  
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; some adult content  
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Dick Wolf. Munch isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh!  
Summary: A series of deadly bombings reunites Munch with the woman that has haunted his sleep for years. In the midst of tragedy, can some much needed good karma open the way for true love delayed? JM/OFC

Instant Karma, Chapter 14

--

Megan Wheeler flipped open her cell phone and dialed the number for her partner. "Mike… the address in Alphabet City is the one. Looks like they were packing to move, but the boxes are still here."

"Yeah… I'm sure it's theirs," she repeated, picking up a framed picture from the top of one of the boxes. "The apartment was rented to a Toby Fisher. He moved in a little over a year ago with his brother, Matt. Pictures… mail… it's them."

"I've already called CSU. I'll camp out here while we process the place," she replied. "I've looked around, but…

--

"_We go now to our reporter, Jason Convey who is outside the __Naval Amphibious Base, Little Creek__ near Virginia Beach. Jason, has the latest on the search for Matthew Czajkowsk."_

"_Thanks, Tyler. I have spoken with several members of the Navy Seals that served with Matthew _Czajkowski_. While none of them was willing to talk on camera, they have all told us that Czajkowski was dishonorably discharged from the Navy three years ago. A second member of their team was discharged at the same time, but they all declined to give us the name of the second Seal involved in that incident."_

"_Jason, do you have any word as to the charges that lead to him being dishonorably discharged?"_

"_From what we've been able to ascertain, Czajkowski and the other man were found engaged in ' inappropriate behavior while on duty'. I pressed several of the men and women I talked to be more precise about what that meant, but they declined to elaborate. One merely said that should be 'self explanatory'."_

"_Frankly, Jason, it's not. 'Inappropriate behavior while on duty' could mean a wide range of offenses… drinking, drug use, fighting… sex… perhaps, something else entirely. Have you been able to get the Nav y to confirm any of this?"_

"_Naval Amphibious Base, Little Creek__ is part of the Norfolk command. No one here or at the main base has been willing to talk to us beyond saying 'this matter is part of an ongoing criminal investigation in New York' and the Navy does not wish 'to interfere in a local police matter… especially one of such magnitude'," the reporter replied._

_The anchor prompted, "The Seal you spoke with that said it should be self-explanatory… did he say anything more?"_

"_No. He refused to elaborate… appeared to regret saying as much as he did," Convey admitted. "It was obvious the circumstances of Czajkowski's dismissal were well-known within the elite world of the Seals, but they refused to discuss the particulars in any way."_

"_What were you able to find out about Matthew Czajkowski beyond the fact he was a Seal and dishonorably discharged?" the well-coiffed man in the studio questioned. "Were they willing to discuss him as a man… a fellow Seal?"_

"_I spoke with several members of the company that served with him," Convey began, "but, once again, they refused to tell us much. Most describe him as extremely intense, moody… one alluded to him as being a difficult person to get to know. Another said he had a bad temper and was a loner. Probably the most interesting thing I was told was that he was a demolitions expert… apparently one that is very good at making bombs."_

"_A demolitions expert??"_

"_Yes. He is certified for all types of explosives," Convey provided. _

--

"Have you seen the latest news reports?" Cragen asked, walking into the conference room the officers heading up investigation had appropriated as their meeting room. "Reporter talked to a bunch of Seals at Norfolk… other than saying the dishonorable was for 'inappropriate behavior while on duty', none of them would say what that meant."

"Yeah, we saw it. I'm with Logan… I think it's 'don't ask don't tell'," Green replied. "That would explain why Czajkowski is sticking around and trying to get Glazer out. Didn't one of the Seals say it was pretty obvious what 'inappropriate behavior' meant?"

"Yeah," Cragen agreed, grabbing a sandwich from a tray on a table near the door. "But… my gut says it's something else… something the Navy wants to keep out of the public eye."

"That policy isn't too popular in some circles," Fontana observed, before taking a bite out of a chicken salad sandwich. Swallowing, he added, "If they were caught on-duty in the act… that's not something the Navy would want publicized."

Nodding, Cragen tore into his Ruben. The rest of the detectives scattered around the table were likewise engaged. Most hadn't eaten since that morning and it was after 10 at night. "I guess we'll know once we get their jackets."

"A Navy currier just dropped them off," Goren offered, pointing toward a bundle of documents in a sealed pouch. "We need to get started going through them."

"Where's Eames?"

Tearing open a bag of chips, the mercurial detective offered, "She's been following up on leads… called a few minutes ago to say she was on her way back. Places she checked were a waste of time, except for one. One in Brooklyn was where they lived when they first moved here, but they haven't lived there for a while.

"She find anything that will help us?"

"Not a lot. She spoke to a couple of people that remembered them… gave her a few names of places they frequented… jobs they had. Ross wanted her back here… Brooklyn's following up on those contacts," he replied. "For the most part, Czajkowski and Glazer seem to have spent most of their time drinking and getting kicked out of the neighborhood watering holes."

"They must have made quite an impression if the neighbors still remember them after a couple of years," Fontana observed.

"Apparently they did," Goren confirmed. "One man remembered Glazer ranting about how badly the Navy had treated them… kept claiming Czjakowski was a hero and deserved more respect. Glazer got into a fight with a retired fireman at one of these places… apparently he had something to say about the FDNY. Eame's requested a copy of the 61 on the incident… may tell us something."

The group fell silent momentarily as the door opened to admit Mike Logan. "Wheeler just called. She found their apartment… dump in Alphabet City. CSU is processing and TARU has collected their computer and bunch of gadgets to take back to their lab. They couldn't access the hard drive there… encrypted up the wazoo. Bastards had a degaussing magnet by the door… Siper spotted it before they carried the CPU out. If she hadn't, the hard drive would have been wiped."

"Any sign of explosives?"

"Megan did a quick look around while she was waiting on CSU… says they had an arsenal of guns, knives, a box of grenades," he replied. "Several of the doors were locked and she says something about them seemed off, so she's moving with caution. O'Halloran and a team from the Bomb Squad are on their way. Judy Siper and her crew are sifting though items in plain sight until they gets there. I'm heading over to join them."

"Keep us posted."

Spotting the food, Logan's eyes lit up. "When's Huang supposed to arrive?"

"He's here," Cragen responded before taking a drink of his coffee. "George managed to track down a Navy shrink that's familiar with Grazer and Czajkowski. He made the call in Samuels' office so he could have some privacy. He'll join us here when he's done."

Looking up from stuffing several sandwiches into a bag, Logan demanded, "How the hell did he manage that? The Navy wouldn't give me anything but a hard time. I had to get Branch to get us their jackets."

Grinning, Don reached for a second sandwich. "Having that FBI badge to go along with the 'Doctor' in front his name, gives George all sorts of pull. Why do you think I try so hard to stay on his good side? Besides, he's a hell of a lot easier to work with than Skoda."

--

"Det… you need to see this."

Following the voice of CSU Captain Judith Siper, Megan Wheeler entered the kitchen of the small, dingy apartment Glazer and Czajkowski shared. "You find something, Judy?"

"Yeah," the criminalist responded, her voice suddenly tight with tension. Stepping carefully away from the cabinet in the far corner, she ordered, "We need to get the hell out of here… now. That door is rigged to blow if it's tampered with!"

Hearing the warning, Wheeler spun on her heels and shouted, "Everyone out… NOW!! Stop what you're doing and MOVE!"

--

George Huang looked up from reading the last report in the stack the Navy had sent to find he was being watched by the NYPD officers sitting around the conference table. "Well… what's your take on these maniacs?" Phil Samuels demanded.

"After reading through their files and discussing them with Dr. Presley… I have no doubts Czajkowski will detonate as many bombs as he has access to until he either runs out or we take him down," George replied. "His fax wasn't a threat, it was a promise."

"You're sure of that, Doc?" Cragen demanded. "He's that invested in getting Glazer back he would risk being caught or killed?"

Nodding his head, Huang repeated, "I have no doubts he will do anything in his power to free his partner or that he won't hesitate to kill as many people as it takes… means, method… numbers, are irrelevant to him. Presley thought Czajkowski might even be looking for the chance to go out in a 'blaze of glory'. That could make him reckless and extremely dangerous."

Trading a look with his officers, Samuels asked, "Did we make a mistake in releasing his picture? Will that set him off?"

Holding the older man's gaze, Huang admitted, "It's possible… but I have no way of knowing what will make him loose control. Frankly, you didn't have any choice but to release it. He has to be found quickly… time's running out. If you don't find him by morning, he will start detonating bombs and people will die. You need as many people looking for him as possible. I see no reason to second-guess the decision to release the photo."

Nodding, Samuels prompted, "Since you spoke to the Navy shrink, fill in the gaps in the formal records. We're missing big pieces of the puzzle."

"They don't tell the whole story," George agreed. "If I hadn't talked to Dr. Presley before I read the files, I would be flying blind in trying to profile him."

"OK… so what can you tell us?"

"Let me begin by saying some of what I'm about to offer is an educated guess. I plan to call Dr. Presley back and run through my analysis with him since he knows both men, but I think I have enough to get you started," Huang began. "First, Matthew Czajkowski suffers from a form of schizophrenia, chiefly characterized by extreme paranoia. He wasn't diagnosed until after the incident in Yemen, but Dr. Presley had already begun to question his fitness for duty."

"Based on what?" Fontana pressed. "If he was unfit for duty, how the hell did he end up on a secret mission?"

Understanding the frustration in the room, Huang choose to answer the question rather than try to debate the Navy's decision. "From what Dr. Presley told me, there were several incidents in Czajkowski's jacket that suggested a growing problem… complaints about his attitude, disciplinary actions his CO's took in response to his conduct. He had been demoted a grade the year before after getting into a fight with a couple of local men at an off-base bar."

"Great. And they let this guy work as an explosives expert."

"Exactly Presley's point. He was so concerned about Czajkowski's growing paranoia he tried to pull him from active duty after that incident. He was overridden by his superiors… they wrote his conduct down as an emotional response to his mother's death the month before," Huang reported. "While Pressley agreed her death was likely an emotional trigger, he argued… unfortunately unsuccessfully, that it was a symptom of a larger problem not an isolated incident."

"So this is what the Navy is trying to cover up… they screwed up and let him remain on active duty when he should have been under psychiatric observation? " Ed summarized.

"Basically, that about sums it up. Pressley tried a second time after an incident during a training exercise the month prior to the rescue mission… the use of excessive force," he added. "He was concerned that Czajkowski wasn't stable enough to be placed in high stress situations."

"Oh, this just keeps getting better and better! What does 'the use of excessive force' mean?" Alex Eames demanded, her irritation at the Navy's failure to deal with Czajkowski's problems while they had the chance clear.

"Czajkowski attacked and seriously wounded two other Seals in an abandoned warehouse the Navy was using for the exercise," Huang reported. "He claimed he though they were 'hostiles', but they were both members assigned to his team. He knew them both and had ridden to the exercise with them that morning. The bullets in his gun were blanks, but his knife and fists were the real thing. Both needed stitches to close the wounds he inflicted. Even if they believed he though they were 'hostiles', Pressley was concerned by his lack of control… he seemed confused in the aftermath, forgetting it was a training exercise not a real event."

"Damn… and that didn't set off any warning bells?" Green exclaimed.

Sighing, George supplied, "It did to Presley. Like I said, he wanted to pull his clearances, but Glazer, who was his team leader, objected and demanded a second opinion. Czajkowski was evaluated by a couple of other doctors with mixed results… evaluated, I need to add, almost a week after the incident when it is possible he had regained control. Apparently, he convinced both doctors that he had simply gotten caught up in the moment and had responded as he was trained, so he was allowed to remain on the team. Pressley apparently kept a close eye on Czajkowski after that, but he seems to have been the only one worried about his fitness for duty."

Goren spoke for the first time since Huang had begun his report. "But Presley was right?"

"Sadly, yes," George supplied. "His concerns never made it into the official records because the doctors that did the second set of evals outranked him. He kept his notes, hoping he never had to refer back to them. He tried talking to Glazer a second time… warned him Czajkowski needed to be kept out of high stress situations at least until he had time to recover from the incident in the training exercise. Glazer didn't listen and chose him for a rescue mission to extract the three American contractors being held hostage on the southern coast of Yemen."

"As you all have read, that mission was a disaster," Huang continued. "Czajkowski lost control, provoking a firefight between the Seals and the men guarding the contractors. Several members of the Seals were wounded in the exchange. While they ultimately managed to extract the hostages and regroup, one of the hostages died as a result of wounds he received in the firefight."

"If they managed to regroup and complete the mission, how did Czajkowski end up being taken prisoner?" Cragen demanded.

"I'm getting to that. The plan had been to rescue the three men and get them out using several inflatable rafts… rendezvous with a sub three miles out to sea. Once they had regained the upper hand in the firefight, Glazer gave the order for his team to move to the extraction point, but Czajkowski apparently wasn't able to regain his control… he broke rank and ran into the midst of the enemy apparently trying to kill as many as he could with his knife," Huang reported.

"All hell broke loose at that point," George concluded. "Czajkowski was completely cut-off from the main group and Glazer had no way of knowing if he was still alive. Faced with the need to complete their mission, Glazer ordered them to clear the beach and make for the sub. It wasn't until three days later that the word came that Czajkowski had somehow survived and was being held as a prisoner of war."

--

Mike Logan pushed his way through the crowd thronged around the barricades blocking the street in front of the building in Alphabet City. Spotting his partner, he flashed his badge to the uniforms manning the line and moved in her direction. He recognized the man she was talking to as a lieutenant with the Bomb Squad.

"What's going on?"

Turning to face her partner, Megan offered, "We had to evacuate the building… place is rigged to blow with at least half-a-dozen small bombs. One goes off, they all of off according to Lt. Brandon."

"Shit! How long will it take for you and your people to clear them?"

Frowning, the other man looked up at a window on the third floor. "Don't know yet. A couple of my men were Seals, so I'm hoping they'll recognize the rigging. The way that place is wired… it may be if, not when."

--

"How long was he held?" Ed Green queried, rising to refill his mug of coffee from a pot on a table in the corner of the room. Seeing his partner start to rise and follow him, he set the pot on a handful of napkins in the middle of the table and slid it toward him. It was quickly emptied as it circled the table.

"A little over a month," Huang replied, nodding his thanks to Fontana as he topped off his cup. "He was tortured… given only the bare minimum of food and water to survive. Glazer led the team that went back for him."

"Apparently, Czajkowski became obsessed with Glazer after that… kept ranting he was the only one he could trust," Hunag added, sipping his coffee. "He was sent stateside to recover. An investigation was underway into the mission's failures when he and Glazer were arrested. The Navy decided to dishonorably discharge them and ignore the rest… at least formally."

Trading a look with Logan, Samuels demanded, "What the hell does that mean?"

"The Navy reevaluated their screening process in the aftermath of Czajkowski's breakdown. Several of the personnel involved were demoted or transferred," Huang reported. "Czajkowski was sent to a VA hospital in Norfolk for treatment… that's when the formal diagnosis of his illness was made. He received medication and was eventually released on an outpatient basis. He stopped showing up for his meetings with Presley a few months later and fell off the radar until today… yesterday."

"What exactly happened that lead to their arrest?" Samuels asked. "The files were pretty vague… conduct unbecoming. What the hell does that mean?"

"Czajkowski had just gotten out of the base hospital after recovering from his captivity. It looks like he was left on his own… got bored and went looking for Glazer," George recounted. "No one knows why Glazer went along with him… that's the part that confounds Presley, but they apparently left the base looking to have a good time. Apparently, they felt the Navy owed them a little R&R."

"They were seen drinking in bars all over the area… the police responded to reports of a number of fights… reports of incidents with prostitutes," he elaborated. "The MP's were looking for them, but they stayed several steps ahead of them for the next two days. Somehow… and the Navy isn't saying how, they managed to get back onto the base and were found in a restricted section of the base having a party with several prostitutes, at least one of which was a transvestite. Rumors about what was going on when the MP's found them were spreading around the base by the next morning… Presley could never pin down how much of it was fact and how much was just rumor. The Navy decided to slap a lid on the potential scandal and booted them within days of the incident."

"When you say party do you actually mean orgy?" Eames pressed. "And they had a few he-she's in the mix?"

"That seems a reasonable assumption, Det.," Huang agreed. "The rumors were pretty salacious to say the least. The fact that they had managed to get into a restricted portion of the base in their condition with their… entourage caused quite an uproar. The Base Commander was livid and a number of heads were rolling by the time the dust settled."

"OK… so, were Glazer and Czajkowski lovers or not?" Fontana pressed.

"No one knows the full truth about their relationship," Huang admitted. "Presley said that incident convinced him Glazer was bisexual… perhaps gay, but in denial. He was the one that apparently bought along the transvestite… was reportedly having sex with him when the MP's arrived, so it may be he needed to be drunk to express his true sexual orientation."

Huang paused to take another sip of his coffee before adding, "Presley felt that, while Czajkowski was heterosexual, his obsession with Glazer may have transformed into a more intimate relationship over time. That's all speculation. Both men denied having a homosexual relationship at the time of their court marshal. They've been off the radar for three years, so we'll never know unless one of them talks."

"I still haven't heard anything that explains why Glazer let his own career go to hell like that," Cragen offered. "Why is he so loyal to Czajkowski? Is he in love with him?"

"Maybe, but I suspect guilt is at the heart of at least part in his actions… he was told Czajkowski wasn't stable enough for the mission and that proved to be a correct assessment. His decision to clear the beach led to his buddy's capture and subsequent torture," Huang proposed. "The fact that he had no other option doesn't lesson his emotional response to knowing what happened as a result."

"As for whether or not he's in love with Czajkowski, I don't have an answer. If he is, that would have made his guilt even harder to handle," George added. "Czajkowski's hero worship undoubtedly exacerbated the situation by making Glazer feel he had to make up for failing him the first time. Presley wanted to have Glazer committed for observation along with Czajkowski, but Glazer's JAG lawyer managed to squelch that, so we have no way of knowing it there was more."

Shaking his head, Don pressed, "How did that lead to what happened yesterday morning?"

"Somewhere along the line, I suspect his guilt changed to anger then rage," Huang theorized. "The Navy kept the mission where Czajkowski was captured secret… likewise his rescue… they denied reports that circulated in the press."

"How did they manage that?"

"I have no idea." Leaning back in his chair, the psychiatrist continued. "Dr. Presley told me he spoke with Glazer several times when he visited Czajkowski in the hospital. Glazer had begun to fixate on the idea they had been betrayed by the Navy. That attitude was fueled by drinking binges… perhaps, drugs. He was worried enough to alert the Norfolk PD, but they disappeared before they could be arrested after a bar fight turned ugly."

"How ugly?" Samuels asked.

"Serious injuries were suffered by several of the participants, but nobody could say who did what," the doctor replied. "A young seaman… just out of boot camp was knifed in the back and will spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. They skipped town before the police could arrest them."

"So… why did they go from Norfolk to New York? And, why attack innocent civilians here?" Samuels prompted.

Sighing, George admitted, "I'm making educated guesses from here forward, but Presley said that during his last few sessions with Czajkowski, he had begun to direct his rage outward to the American public for 'ignoring their sacrifices'… and for not offering him the hero status he felt he deserved. Glazer was feeding his paranoia and the two of them were beginning to loose touch with reality. We can only assume the situation spiraled out of control from there."

"OK… why New York?"

"The easiest answer is probably the right one… they came home," Huang offered. "They may have expected a hero's welcome from their families… who knew about the mission in Yemen. From what we've learned so far, their families and friends wanted nothing to do with them because of their dishonorable discharges. Undoubtedly, this lead to their becoming completely isolated from any moderating influences… their rage building."

"As for why innocent civilians, I suspect that it goes back to what I said about Czajkowski's feelings of being ignored for his heroic sacrifices," Huang speculated. "Remember, he was wounded on a mission that was, at least tangentially, related to the war on terror, but his capture and subsequent torture never made the news. He probably feels he suffered for his country and his country failed to recognize his contributions. Since New York was the scene of 9/11… the Twin Towers became the symbol that rallied the nation, it is possible not being accepted here became the final straw."

"I also suspect the fact that 9/11 produced so many local heroes, especially in the ranks of the NYPD and the FDNY, may have played into their decision," he continued. "They probably believed the bombings would give them a chance to prove they were better, smarter, tougher… perhaps, making the NYPD look bad in the process. The incident report you uncovered in Brooklyn supports this… they got into a fight with a retired FDNY firefighter. The man they attacked said they kept ranting about 9/11 and the way the public embraced the police and firemen that responded… seemed to be angry about it."

"Is Glazer the dominate partner?" Cragen asked.

"Without question… though Czajkowski is highly trained in special ops," the FBI profiler cautioned. "He is capable of inflicting a lot of damage in a lot of ways… assuming he can retain his focus enough to carry out their plans. From his message demanding Glazer's release, that's his immediate intent, but there's no telling how long he will be able to stick to the plan. It all depends on how far his illness has progressed. Without medication… If he starts improvising, there is no telling what he may do."

"That means you think he will stick to the plan to set off the bombs?" Green prompted.

"Yes… at least in the short term. He's conditioned to think in terms of completing his mission… one transformed into a rescue op to save his hero. Until he runs out of targets or something sends him careening out of control in another direction, he'll carry on as planned… Glazer's capture may even be part of a contingency plan they mapped out before hand," Huang concluded. "You need to find him fast before he looses control. For now, you know what he plans to do; if he starts adlibbing… I have no way of guessing what he may do."

"Great," Eames muttered. "We have a paranoid schizophrenic with a hero complex and access to a bunch of bombs. This should be easy."

--

The tense quiet that had descended over the room in the wake of Huang's pronouncement was broken as the door to the conference room slipped open and a young uniformed officer hurried over to Samuels. Handing him a note, she offered, "Sir… Captain Ross asked me to give you this. He's getting ready to head to the scene."

Looking up from the note, Samuels ordered, "Tell him wait… I'm going with him."

Passing the note to Cragen, the grim-faced man rose to leave. "There's been an explosion…"

--

Feedback appreciated!

8/11/08


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